


don't hex me, we're mint to be

by cygnus (sunsprite)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Denial of Feelings, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magic, Roommates, Supernatural Elements, background luno & johnjae, do idiots to lovers apply here, hedgewitch!hyuck, human!mark, kind of, rated T for colourful language & dirty jokes, they're a bunch of dweebs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-10-27 08:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17763587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsprite/pseuds/cygnus
Summary: Number one rule in fake dating relationships is toneverfall in love. Mark is sure that somebody like Donghyuck wouldn’t fall for him. Mark, on the other hand,mayhave some trouble.





	1. i can't beleaf this

**Author's Note:**

> yay !!! i've always liked the idea of modern fantasy settings (w/o it being too much of a focus) & i love nerdy(ish) mark so... this happened.. it was supposed to be a one shot but i always write too much ehehe Q___Q (i have no idea where i'm going w this but i have lot in mind to write out!)
> 
> unbeta'd as always, so sorry for any mistakes i didn't catch !! nd i hope u enjoy!! <3

In a world of glamorous sirens, thieving fairies, and swindling witches, Mark finds that living among supernatural creatures as a puny, vulnerable human isn’t so bad as everyone makes it to be. 

Sure, the subways run on magic and the trains levitate that make him queasy; the working-class goblins at the ticket booths lick metro cards to check its balance and Mark is stuck with a slimy card that’s hard to scrub clean; the cyclops can crush his head with a single squeeze of their palms that terrifies him into oblivion - but all in all, it was totally and absolutely _spectacular._

Not to mention how even going grocery shopping was fun. The farmer’s market always had a variety of delightful merchandise: fresh fruit and vegetables, wooden carvings, alcoholic drinks for his crisis-night conveniency, and the stall right beside it offered voodoo dolls and curses on your worst enemy. Completely _fun_ tastic. 

So. You can say that Mark’s become highly desensitized to his uncanny milieu. He doesn’t even flinch at the sight of flying cauldrons or angels playing freeze tag in the troposphere. It’s to be expected in Arcadia, being the new and blooming city specializing in all things magical and mystical stemming from a multitude of backgrounds. Much of his tolerance was cultivated over time mostly due to living with his step-brother who is, in fact, a vampire. Poor twelve-year old Mark had the honour of running into his brother’s dinner way too many times to count in the middle of the night. All the blood? All the sounds? Not a particularly great lullaby to fall asleep to. 

Thus, Mark has become accustomed to expecting the unexpected. But what he doesn’t expect in all his twenty-years of life is to come home to a heaping, gunky mess of giant eyeballs dumped all over his desk with a poorly written note stuck on top, saying: _for u my lil markle sparkle ♡_

“What the fuck,” he whispers in horror. “What the fuck is this.” 

“Surprise?”

Mark screams and whirls around, bringing his hands up to protect his face, only to find his roommate peeking his head out by the doorway with a bright smile on his face. His eyes are sparkling with mischief and he skips into Mark’s room. Mark groans and rubs his temples. Of course. 

“I thought I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that.” His complaint was received with an impish snicker. Mark huffs and points at the horrendous, shiny monstrosity occupying his desk. “Dude, _please_ tell me why a bunch of eyeballs are slobbering all over my desk.”

“Uh, they’re not just any eyeballs. They’re _Basilisk_ eyeballs, polished and detoxified! They’re, like, super rare, man,” Donghyuck exclaims and bounds towards his desk, picking one up and holding it to the sunlight that was spooling through the window. 

“Wow. Amazing. But why are they on my _desk_?”

“Well.” Donghyuck clears his throat. He looks at Mark in laughable earnestness. “They’re also a symbol of long-lasting, reciprocal friendship between two individuals who would do anything the other asked for, and the amount of scales reflect the magnitude of their love and care and devotion for each other. Or, as you simple humans would say - broship. Or is it _bro_ lationship?”

Mark narrows his eyes. Donghyuck reeks of suspicion like he always does. “Alright. Out with it. What do you want?”

“Great that you finally asked!” Donghyuck beams. He clasps his hands together. “I need you to be my fake boyfriend.”

Mark blinks. Once. Twice for effect. Thrice because he’s entirely certain he heard wrong.

“Like. Right now.”

Nevermind.

“ _What_?” Mark shrieks. Donghyuck winces and covers his ears. “Have you gone _bonkers_ , dude? Is this a prank? Is this a joke? Are you going to break out into a number and say I just got punk’d or something? Because ha-ha, this is _super_ funny, but please get your basket eyeballs off of my desk so I can start on my Shakespeare paper that’s due in less than eight hours.” 

“First of all, it’s _Basilisk_ ,” Donghyuck corrects him, his arms akimbo. “Second of all, I’m totally rational. Third of all, you have low standards of a prank if you think this qualifies as one. Seriously, hear me out, Mark. I can assure you that I have a completely sound rationale for this favour.”

Mark studies Donghyuck’s solemn countenance. Mark has never seen Donghyuck act serious at all - in fact, Mark hasn’t seen many sides of Donghyuck other than his annoying side. And it is because of Donghyuck’s sudden take on severity that Mark sighs in resignation and motions Donghyuck to go ahead. “Fine.” 

As soon as Donghyuck starts speaking, Mark immediately regrets allowing him to explain. Donghyuck breaks the facade of his severity and launches off into an ardent, passionate spiel about his ridiculous plans revolving around the whole notion of revenge against his ex-boyfriend who is a top-tier S-level asshole. And that includes (1) making the ex jealous because he hates humans and (2) making the ex feel inferior because Donghyuck has a human boyfriend. Then, said ex will try to win Donghyuck back because he cherishes his ego way too much to lose over a human, and when Donghyuck rejects him, it will be the sweetest revenge known to all of mankind. On the other hand, Mark thinks it’s the pettiest revenge ever.

What strikes Mark as most confusing is Donghyuck coming to _him_ , of all people, for help. The thing is - he and Donghyuck aren’t even close to begin with. Close enough to exchange teasing remarks and insults if passing by each other, maybe, but never close enough to share so casually about personal matters, so Mark doesn’t understand why he’s being sought out for assistance.

They’ve been roommates for a year, now, in the basement suite Mark’s brother had introduced him to for a cheap price since it was a relatively close commute to university (but also located in a shady neighborhood that spooks him into a state of trembling fear whenever he hears inhumane noises coming from his neighbours in the middle of the night), but that doesn’t mean he and Donghyuck are _friends_. 

Not only that, but they don’t cross paths often either. Whereas Donghyuck was busy as a beaver, always gone at the asscrack of dawn, Mark can only be seen outside during the ungodly hour of the night where the streets would be empty and quiet. Part-time recluse, part-time night owl. Maybe a quarter state of a permanently exhausted pigeon. A grand combination. Plus, they got off on the wrong foot in the beginning and it wasn’t until halfway into the year of living together did they finally form some inkling of mutual respect after a truce.

So for Donghyuck to ask him for such an outlandish favour out of the blue is alarmingly intrusive to Mark’s everyday life. Pair that up with the sudden chumminess? It’s scaring the hell out of Mark. He’s half convinced that he was talking to an anthropomorphic alien instead.

“Okay, okay, stop.” Mark raises a hand and Donghyuck pauses. “Can't you just find another human? Why me?”

“You're the only human I'm close with.” Donghyuck waves at the space between them. “Literally.”

Mark rolls his eyes at Donghyuck’s terrible logic and switches tact. “If he hates humans, he’s gonna wanna eat me alive, dude. What am I supposed to do? Hold your hand and buy you chocolates with the impending possibility looming over my head that I’m going to get bulldozed into tiny fleshy bits by your ex? Jealousy drives people to kill, you know!”

“Mark, breathe a little. But I gotta say that you _are_ a stellar student - always asking questions.” Donghyuck gives him a thumbs up. Mark wants to throw one of those basket eyeballs at him to wipe that stupid grin off of his obnoxious face. “Don’t worry about it. No one would dare mess with people like me!” 

“People like you? What? Witches?”

“Yes, but for the record, I’m a _hedge_ witch.”

Mark screws his face into confusion. “So, like. A witch?”

“ _Hedge_ witch! I may dibble dabble in the arcane arts but I’m totally intuned with nature and the hearth. You’ve got big teletubby ears. Listen a bit more, will you?”

Mark opens his mouth, affronted, but doesn’t get a chance to retaliate as Donghyuck barrels on. “C’mon, Mark. Pretty please? We’ve been practically living together for almost a year now, which already constitutes as a basis for a fake relationship! And tell you what. I’ll buy you coffee and do all the chores for the entire duration of our fictitious romantic relationship. Plus, I'll stop putting all my plants in your room like a storage closet _and_ I'll make you my special sicklepod and red ginseng tea - infused with magical properties - whenever you need it that can cure any ailments in a jiffy.” 

Donghyuck grabs Mark’s hands clasps it with both of his hands, bringing it close to his chest. Mark feels his own face heat up at the sudden intimacy. Mark didn’t peg him as the overly affectionate type with how aloof he dresses. Even _worse_. “You get a bunch of perks and I get a sweet sense of satisfaction and triumph. We both mutually benefit from this relationship like fuckin’ uhhh - symbiosis! So? What do you say? Wanna join in on the revenge against the ex-fest? Please, please, _pleaaaase_?”

Donghyuck looks at Mark in eager expectation and Mark’s mouth wobbles open. There are many reasons as to why he should not agree to this - one of them being that he’s too occupied with trying not to succumb to his intensely high stress-levels that unfortunately came in a two-for-one special package attached to his academic responsibilities as a second-year university student. 

Another reason being that Mark is probably going to die by the hands of a jealous human-hating ex in the middle of their vindictive anti-romantic crossfire just because his punk hedgewitch of a roommate decided Mark was a suitable candidate for this mess. And the last reason being that Mark is awkward and has absolutely _no_ experience in dating whatsoever. Holding hands with a girl in third grade and being dared to kiss the cheek of a male classmate in the tenth did not count and will not contribute to the feasibility of their facade.

Moreover, all Mark had wanted to do was just finish his goddamn paper. But he supposes he’s always been a bit too nice for his own good.

Mark throws his head back and laments over what his life has become. He curses his innate predisposition as a chronic people pleaser, even for a morally ambiguous roommate. “I can’t have caffeine, but change that to bubble tea so I can drown my sorrows in and you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

Donghyuck throws his hands up in the air and aggressively hugs Mark, jumping around. “You are the _best_ fake boyfriend ever!”

“Shut up. You’re gonna make me regret this,” Mark grumbles. He’s beginning to think he’s getting sick from how warm his face feels. Once Donghyuck finally lets go of him, Mark frowns and helplessly points to the bunch of basket eyeballs on his desk again. “Can you get rid of all this, now? Like, I appreciate the gesture and all, but eyeballs aren’t - uh, my thing.”

“No sweat. I actually got them for my hex recipes.” Donghyuck pats Mark on the chest with a shit-eating grin. “They’re not really a symbol of friendship.”

Mark stares at him. Then he grabs an eyeball and chucks it at Donghyuck’s face.

x

“Yukhei, it’s been ten minutes,” Mark deadpans. “Can you _please_ stop now?”

All he receives is another onslaught of uncontrollable laughter. He watches as Yukhei clutches his stomach and writhes around on the grass, slapping his free hand at every given surface possible to convey his utmost delight at Mark’s agony. He’s wheezing at this point and Mark doesn’t know if someone can die from laughing too hard. He sure hopes not. He doesn’t know CPR but if he did? Fuck Yukhei. 

Mark is starting to regret telling Yukhei. He should have went to Yerim first. At least she’ll be a lot more understanding. Then again, she busted a lung when Mark fell down the stairs and accumulated a bruise the size of an apple on his asscheek. Why did all his friends take pleasure in his pain?

It almost takes a lifetime before Yukhei finally composes himself. He’s wiping away his tears before he grabs his five gallon water jug from the side and sips from it on a Starbucks straw. “Oh man, I’m parched.” 

Mark huffs and says, “Finally! Thank you.”

“No, thank _you_. This is the best thing I’ve heard all day. Dude, I can’t believe your first boyfriend isn’t even _real_.” Yukhei starts to cackle again and Mark takes his gratitude back. “Why did you even think you would be able to handle this, man? You can’t even hold hands without turning into a volcano. You can’t even hold _mine_ without squirming and it’s not because of the scales. Besides, I thought you and Donghyuck didn’t get along.”

“Shut up, Yukhei. You’re supposed to be inspiring _confidence_ in me.” Mark flushes. “And I dunno. I mean, _yeah_ \- he’s loud and kinda scary and unpredictable - but I think we’re on good terms, now? He _did_ ask for my help, after all. It’s only been a day and he hasn’t turned back on our deal.”

Yukhei raises a brow. “Let’s just hope his ex-boyfriend isn’t a club-wielding orc ready to bash your head in the wall ‘cause if he is, the bubble tea is _so_ not worth it. If you die, I’ll burn some joss paper for you to use in the afterlife. Maybe you’ll even cross paths with my divine granny! Well, however that works.” 

Mark shivers at the prospect of meeting Yukhei’s very dead draconian ancestors. He reclines on the grass, looking up at the sky through the gaps of the leaves of a large tree they were situated underneath on the field beside their college’s daycare. Mark thinks about his first meeting with Donghyuck. Mark had went home quickly from class in anticipation for his roommate that day, excited and nervous to make a new friend. Mark’s brother had mentioned that Donghyuck was his friend’s friend’s friend and was highly independent and easy to live with, and Mark took his brother’s word for it.

So, imagine the surprise when Mark found Donghyuck, clad in a leather jacket with dyed wavy hair, an earful of piercings plus a painful looking _eyebrow_ ring, stabbing pins into a voodoo doll while perched on top of the kitchen counter drinking sparkling apple cider. 

“You have ugly furniture,” was Donghyuck’s first words to him. 

The asshole didn’t even look up. And _that_ is how Mark got his first impression of Donghyuck - scary, intimidating, most likely part of a motorcycle gang, and undoubtedly the devil’s incarnate (he still is). The last time Mark associated himself with someone of the same disposition, he got socked in the solar plexus and almost pepper-sprayed. Mark should’ve realized that his brother’s word is sometimes _far_ from reliable. 

Though Donghyuck was indeed independent, he was not easy to live with. The guy left his collection of uncanny herbs and plants (that were sometimes animated and almost ate Mark’s toe, once) all over the place, treating Mark’s room like a storage closet to store his creepy plant crawlies. He once found his room covered in parasitic roots from a tree entity hanging from his ceiling because Donghyuck was testing a new remedy for it. 

And sometimes, Mark would walk right into the middle of one of his many projectorial procedures of hexing people that Mark thought best to not interfere. He couldn’t even complain about it to Donghyuck in person because Donghyuck was out the majority of the times Mark was home, which led to fierce arguments exchanged via sticky notes and petty pranks. 

But just like how Mark became used to the customs of the magical crossover of worlds, he also became accustomed to Donghyuck’s excruciating, high-maintenanced living habits. Once a truce had been established after one of Donghyuck’s many eldritch herbal decoctions almost poisoned Mark to death, things seemed to have simmered down between them. 

“A penny for your thoughts?” Yukhei lies beside him, the dappled sunlight reflecting off of the iridescent scales riddled over his tanned arms, the sides of his face and neck, and a few speckled above his eyelids that reminds Mark of sparkly eyeshadow. God, he loves sparkles. 

Mark sighs. “I’m just thinking how I might experience an early death.”

“I mean, if you _do_ die, at least you’ll escape student loans.”

“Bro. That is _so_ true.”

“Well, let me know how it goes,” Yukhei says. “I’m excited to see you set aside this special time to humiliate yourself. Plus, I need some entertainment that doesn’t include me trying to understand how a half-dragon and a _mogwai_ would copulate. I never knew my cousin was into dead demonic spirits. That’s, like, some next level kinky shit.”

Mark groans and covers his ears. He doesn’t need to hear to know that Yukhei was laughing.

x

When Mark says it’s funny how the universe works, it is fucking hilarious. Mark, however, did not find comedy in the universe’s joke because he only experiences negative 0 aH of laughter. Fuck Yukhei.

So, it goes like this. 

Mark is _stressed_. He is busy. He has another important paper due in less than twenty-four hours because his inclination for perfection and its anxious sidekick decided to propel Mark into a stale succession of procrastination (or pro- _cat_ -ination, considering he’s been watching cat videos to fill the empty void in his soul). Mark knows jack shit. Mark is tired. He’s running on four hours of sleep and can only drink herbal tea and the smudge on his glasses won’t go _away_. 

So, while he’s seated in a little cafe by the window with succulents perched on the sill just beyond the arts building, he realizes how ‘expecting the unexpected’ is always annulled whenever Donghyuck is involved, because Donghyuck pops up out of nowhere like a burrowing mole, crashes into the seat across from him that sent most of his notes flying, and slams his hand down onto the table.

“Give me your hand,” he demands.

Mark gapes at him. Then he gapes at his poor, scattered notes. Then back at Donghyuck. “What the fuck?”

“Just _please_ give me your fucking hand and look like you’re deeply in love with me and writing sonnets about my beauty and willing to die for me in the next ten minutes.” 

Mark scrunches up his nose. “Why in the world would I die for you? Fuck that.” 

Donghyuck kicks him underneath the table. Mark yelps and barely lifts a hand from the keyboard of his laptop when Donghyuck snatches it and intertwines their fingers. And then Donghyuck is suddenly smiling at him with the most intense warmth Mark has _ever_ seen in contrast to his daunting appearance. The abrupt duality makes his brain short-circuit and haywire that he hardly notices the newcomer walk in, to which Donghyuck amplifies the cheesy act. 

“I am so happy that you asked me to be your boyfriend, sweetheart,” Donghyuck projects his clear voice across the entire room that attracts every colourful head’s attention. Mark is _sweating_. “It’s so funny how humans are such compassionate creatures! You are _way_ better than my last boyfriend because you understand me. Oh, don’t you just feel the same way?” 

Mark gawks. His face is burning to the point that he’s certain someone can cook a three-course meal on it. Maybe grill a fucking well done steak to on it too. “Uh, um. Uhhhhh. Uh?”

“Ha!” Donghyuck barks a short laugh. “You humans and your incomprehensible languages. How absolutely endearing. If it weren’t for your - oh, hey Zilge.” 

Mark blinks and looks up when a shadow casts over him. His eyes widen. Standing in front of him is a tall young man donning a varsity jacket with a dusky green complexion, towering over everyone in almost a comical sense and making Mark look like a rotten, faulty pumpkin in juxtaposition with his bright orange university hoodie and track pants stained with a mysterious origin. 

But the green skin? The mild underbite? The sharp ears and robust stature? Mark cannot believe that Donghyuck’s ex-boyfriend is an _orc_. What’s worse is that Zilge is highly likely also a “ _club-wielding_ orc” too. 

_Fuck_ Yukhei. 

Mark is agonizing over his early death, but then he’s forgotten like a puny ring of dust beneath a vase when Zilge turns his attention back on Donghyuck. “Wow. Already moving on that fast, huh, Hyuck? Especially with a mundane, no less?” 

“First of all, don’t call me Hyuck. We’re not friends,” Donghyuck retorts, his grip tightening around Mark’s hand, and Mark notices the forced nonchalance of his tone. “Second of all, I had to lower my standards and dumb it down when it came to dating you, so let’s skip your spells of a superiority complex. Besides, I realized that humans are way more emotionally capable than meathead orcs. It’s just the way it is.”

Zilge laughs without any humour. He fixes his glare on Mark, visibly aggravated at being compared to a human. Mark’s pretty sure he can see a vein popping on his forehead. “The way I see it is that humans are scum. Don’t you think the least you can do is find a better rebound than trash?” 

Mark is too shocked to feel insulted. This is it. Mark is dead. Zilge is going to find him at night and kidnap him with a bunch of orc jocks and beat his ass up in a Target parking lot. Mark Lee is about to get his own ass handed to him and he wouldn't even have the chance to say goodbye to his friends and family. He hasn't even called his dad to tell him he loves him for the scheduled fifth time of the week. Mark hasn’t even told his brother that _he_ is the one who dumped a whole bunch of chili powder in his pint of blood wine the last time he visited. 

“What do you mean? I’m speaking to trash right now.” Donghyuck blinks innocently.

“This is a fucking joke. You really think a human is better than me?” 

“A screwdriver is better than you.” Hyuck ripostes. “And let me remind you that you broke up with _me_. What I do is none of your beeswax. Now, we were here first, so if you can kindly stop standing there like a tool and leave us new lovebirds alone, that would be immensely appreciated.”

Zilge is glaring daggers at Mark, emanating such an ominous aura that even the succulents are beginning to wilt. But after a moment of silent brooding, Zilge doesn't grace Donghyuck with a response and walks right back out of the cafe, looking minutes away from blowing a fuse. Donghyuck sticks his tongue out and flips him off, cursing him to hell even as he’s gone. 

Mark stares at the empty spot of where Zilge had been standing. If Zilge had stood there any longer, Mark would have probably peed his pants. “Oh my God. I didn’t know you were into, like. Green people. No, wait - green _jocks_.”

“I’m pre-wired to like someone by personality, not by looks.” Donghyuck sniffs haughtily. “What? It’s true! Social cliques are so high school, Mark. This is post-secondary. Although Zilge’s personality is just as bad as his body odour. What did I even see in him? God, I was probably drunk. He’s got a face made for a radio.”

“He looks like someone hit random on the Skyrim character customization.”

“He looks like the dollar menu version of fucking Nicolas Cage.”

“He's the guy you'd use as a blueprint to build an idiot.”

“He's the proof that revolution can go in reverse. Asshole.”

Mark snorts and quickly slaps his other hand over his mouth. He exchanges a meaningful glance with Donghyuck for a second before the both of them burst into laughter. “That's so _mean_.”

“He deserves it. If he was gonna be two-faced, then at least make one of them pretty.” Donghyuck grumbles. Then he comes to a realization that they were still holding hands and he immediately lets go of Mark’s hand. Donghyuck wipes his palm onto his ripped jeans. “Mark, your palms are super sweaty. Gross.” 

“Wha - hey!” Mark leans forward, hissing. “You were making me nervous.”

Donghyuck snorts. “I could tell. You’re still red.”

Mark brings a worksheet up to cover his face. “Shut up. You totally _owe_ me. Your varsity ex-boyfriend is going to come hunt me down and club me to death! He’s gonna throw a football at my face and I _like_ my nose, for the record. He’s a human-hating prick. I’m going to _die_.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a complete worrywart?” 

“Yes,” Mark says as he peeks over the worksheet. “Many times.”

“Good. Now I’m telling you to quit worrying. The plan is working. This revelation is a huge jab to his ego.” Donghyuck grins and stands up from his seat. “And now, I’m going to buy you that bubble tea and let you meet the rest of my gang, because what kind of boyfriend am I if I don’t introduce you to my friends? Let’s get this show on the road, baby!” 

Mark throws his head back and groans. His paper.

x

“You have _wings_.”

“Yeah.”

“On your _body_.”

“No, they’re in a closet. Of course they’re on my _body_. Donghyuck, I thought you said your roommate was smart.”

“He is,” Donghyuck says brightly. “Just, well. Not consistently.” 

“They’re so _sparkly_ ,” Mark goggles. 

Donghyuck smacks Mark’s hand away when he was about to touch the diaphanous material of the sylph’s wings out of curiosity. “Mark, have some decorum! Let me introduce you to the gang before you go touching people’s wings with your grubby hands.”

Donghyuck clears his throat. They’re outside of the bubble tea shop, huddled in the back alley where runes and charms are vandalized over advertisements. Mark is sipping on his taro and pudding milk tea as Donghyuck wildly gestures at his friends, starting with the sylph with pointy ears and dainty wings on his back that fluttered with golden dust that seemed to annoy the owner. “Mark, this is Asshole One: Renjun. An Interdimensional Studies major with a penchant for rhetorical questions. Also your local Chinese counterpart of Peter Pan - _ow_! I’m joking, you brute. He’s a sylph. So, like, an air spirit that’s ‘one with the wind’ or some shit.” 

“Interdimensional?” Mark tilts his head. The University of Arcadia is teeming with various new kinds of academic fields that Mark has yet to hear of ever since society became predominantly magical. 

“It’s a scientific magical subject that focuses on the crossover of dimensions that allows various mythological and supernatural creatures to coexist with each other and particularly how those dimensions interact,” Renjun explains fluently. 

Donghyuck shrugs. “There’s a whole lotta physics and mana mechanics involved that sounds like garbled Pig Latin to me. I just say the world is as it is because of the Big Bang. Anyways, next!” 

“This is Asshole Two: Jaemin,” Donghyuck says as he points at another young man with bubblegum pink hair who raises a hand and wiggles his fingers in greeting with a poker face. He was carrying a stick with a heart-shaped ornament on top in his other hand. “In the Social Work program. An avid volunteer. Great at cooking and makes _the_ best kimchi fried rice, just saying. Also one of Cupid’s many sons.”

“Love doesn’t exist,” Jaemin says sadly. 

“Whoa!” Mark beams. “So, like, a demigod?”

“Mark, don’t perpetuate stereotypes. Not everyone is a Percy Jackson novel,” Donghyuck gasps. “But yes. A demigod. He’s a pacifist, though, so even if you piss him off, he won’t go and - I dunno, strike you with an arrow and force your crush to escape by turning into a laurel tree. Anyways.”

“Then, we have Asshole Three: Yangyang.” Donghyuck points to the other young man with white, fluffy ears and a tail who beams and waves eagerly at Mark. “Asian Studies major. Looks like an angel but _really_ isn’t. One of his specialties is to fuck shit up while we clean his shit up. A _huli jing_ or fox spirit. He can shapeshift so, like. If you wanna kiss me? Make sure it’s _actually_ me.”

Mark makes a disgusted face at the mention of kissing, and starts when Yangyang grabs his hands and shakes them with great enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you, Mark! I’d love to study your face and habits even further so I can perfectly impersonate you!”

“Sorry, _what_?”

Donghyuck interrupts them immediately. “Alright, moving on! Last but definitely not the least, is Asshole Four: Jeno,” Donghyuck cordially introduces the next young man with black hair and a cute smile, who suddenly invades Mark’s personal space and starts to sniff Mark from his hair to his neck. Mark is slightly creeped out. “Biology major. Capable of acing an exam with only two nights of studying. Has a great adoration for cats. Also a psychopomp, which means if you _do_ end up dying, Mark, he’ll take you carefully to heaven! No worries.”

Mark blanches and shrieks, “Again. _What_?”

“You smell like vibrant life! Such joy,” Jeno exclaims, his eyes sparkling. “How remarkable! I’d love to escort your healthy soul to the afterlife once you die.” 

“Not if I eat his soul first,” Yangyang pipes in, earning a frown from Jeno.

“Get your own soul. This one’s mine. I sniffed him first!” 

“Cute, right? He’s kinda like a grim reaper but with more flesh, a lot less emo, and Korean.” Donghyuck grabs Jeno by the shoulders and pulls him away from snuggling close to Mark. “Okay now, puppy of death. That’s enough. _Nobody’s_ taking Mark’s soul. At least wait until he’s done being my boyfriend, people.”

Mark is in the middle of praying for his life when Renjun intervenes. “So, I supposed Donghyuck either bribed you or blackmailed you into being his fake boyfriend.”

Mark nibbles on his straw. “Um. Yes.”

Renjun sighs and faces Donghyuck. “The extent you are willing to go through just to triumph over a failed relationship is astoundingly stupid. But we’ve all agreed to help you spread your new boyfriend agenda everywhere so go fuck that fucker _up._ ”

Jeno cheers and throws his fists in the air, “Yeah, fuck that fucker up!”

“Fuck!” Yangyang shouts for the hell of it.

Jaemin cheers dismally. Donghyuck looks as though he’s moved to tears. Mark watches them all with concern. Donghyuck’s friends are a band of weird and questionably strong proponents of deception. Mark isn’t sure if he’s going to make it out of his fake relationship alive at this point. 

“Oh, right,” Donghyuck perks up and rummages through his tote, taking out a small damask pouch. He loosens the drawstrings and takes out a wooden jar. He hands it over to Jaemin. “Here’s a salve I made for the burn you got the other day, Nana. Be more careful around the stove since you’re always cooking for kids all day, okay?”

Jaemin’s eyes are gleaming as he receives the salve. He sniffles, looking up at the sky. “Perhaps love truly _does_ exist after all.” 

Donghyuck laughs, spontaneous and bright, and shoves at his arm. The others join in except for Mark. He’s watching Donghyuck instead. The colourful dichotomy between Donghyuck’s appearance and his personality has always been an odd trait to grasp, but Mark’s never seen Donghyuck act so thoughtfully nor express affection without the purpose to torment like he does with Mark. 

In the familiarity and comfort of his friends, Donghyuck is genuine, and his smile is wider and softer. And as Donghyuck stands in between the shade, the skylight streams down on him and illuminates the crown of his head, ricocheting off his piercings. His eyes look amber, almost golden, in the light. 

Mark blinks and shakes his head. He aggressively sips his bubble tea, mentally beating his weird thoughts away with a stick. He thinks about the plan. If it does end up working, he won’t have to deal with Donghyuck’s scary plants and gimmicks ever again. Nothing else is going to happen, that’s for sure. Number one rule in fake dating relationships is to _never_ fall in love. Mark is sure that somebody like Donghyuck wouldn’t fall for him. (Mark, on the other hand, _may_ have some trouble.)

“Alright, team.” Donghyuck extends his hand to the middle and beckons the rest of them to do the same. “We got this. I wasted a lot of money and time on that booger-faced asshole so it’s time to get back at him!” After he counts off, everybody throws their hands into the air and cheers. 

As soon as they disband, Mark glances at his drink again and sighs. Choking on sugar seems like the sweetest way to die right now.

x

Operation Revenge Against The Ex-Fest commences at full-throttle. Mark doesn’t realize how much he didn’t know about his roommate until Donghyuck invited him out for coffee at eight in the morning to discuss their whereabouts in terms of their fake relationship. Mark was dragging himself after Donghyuck around campus with awful eyebags, lugging his anthology textbook along. He stayed up all night to finish his paper, no thanks to the devil, and can still hear Yukhei laughing in his ear when Mark had called him to cuss at him for jinxing Mark.

“If we’re gonna make this believable then we’re gonna have to get to know each other.” Donghyuck places a cup of peppermint tea in front of Mark before nursing his own cup of coffee as they sit down at the tall stools. They’re at the cafe where they first pretended to be dating. “I was struck with an epiphany this morning that I know jack shit about you except that you’re a clean freak, you’re Jaehyun’s little human step-bro, you hate plants, and you’re kind of a nerd.” 

Mark is too tired to feel insulted. He drops his head onto the table as he mumbles flatly, “I’m a Literature major. I work part-time as a tutor. I can’t cook. I like music. I hate public speaking. I don’t know where I’m going in life. I also _don’t_ hate plants, shut up.” 

Mark can tell that Donghyuck likes to talk about himself because after Mark’s succinct, 30-second self-info session, Donghyuck launches off into his own. But despite Donghyuck’s obvious flair for the dramatics in both parlance and demeanor, he’s rather down-to-earth and humble when talking about himself.

Mark learns more about him in the span of an hour instead of the year they’ve been living together. Donghyuck is a Witchcraft and Apothecary major with a minor in Classical Studies (to, as he said, “get closer to his very _very_ distant ancestors”) with a personal specialty in the surface level of arcane arts, which would explain his hobby of hexing people and constructing new curse recipes. He also has two moms living in a villa near the coastline of Arcadia with a bunch of cats after moving to the magical city from Seoul to be near their ambitious son. Donghyuck also works at a small atelier shop that sells all kinds of wiccan essentials and supplies; takes care of a virtual dog on his Nintendo DS; and talks fondly about his friends and how they met at an orientation for first-years. 

“So, little Markle Sparkle,” Donghyuck says as he rests his chin atop his palm. Mark glares at him for the terrible nickname. “What brings you, a human, to the land of magic?” 

Mark asks himself the same question everyday whenever he comes across a slight inconvenience in his daily life. He heaves a deep sigh. “To be honest? This was the only university that accepted my high school transcript and didn’t require an entrance exam.”

“Wow.” Donghyuck stares at him incredulously. “That’s like a super simple reason. Most humans deem this city as a tourist place or a city of thrilling dangers with the monsters and whatnot. Do you know how many humans I see who still book it like their lives are in danger when they see, like, I don’t know - a wizard construction worker levitating a huge ass block of concrete? You’re the chillest one I’ve gotten to know so far! Well. Besides the whole uptight roommate thing you’ve got going on.”

Donghyuck clearly hasn’t seen Mark losing his mind at three in the morning. Mark thinks he’s far from chill. But he’s _definitely_ not uptight. “I lived with a bunch of vampires since I was ten. I think I had a bit of an advantage.” 

Donghyuck clicks his tongue in agreement. Mark forces his eyes to stay open and watches a werecat pass by him carrying a basket of flower wreaths. He likes werecats. Werecats are furry and cute. He turns his attention back to Donghyuck, who was admiring the quirky designs on the coffee cup. “Uh, hey. So what do we do now? Zilge knows about us and is probably gathering a hunting party for me right now, but how else are we supposed to continuously piss him off?” 

“Oh, that’s easy.” Donghyuck waves the concern away. “He’s easy to find. He comes to this cafe on a regular basis and the Student Union Building where he often hangs out with his other meathead jocks. And _maybe_ we’ll go to their matches and pretend like we’re interested in the sport when we’re really not while reciprocating public displays of affection.”

“ _What_.”

“In the meantime, we’re also going to practice our romantic interactions at the same time because full offence, Mark. You _suck_. We’ve gotta amp up our lovey dovey facade to make it more believable, you know? Zilge may be blinded by his superiority complex but he isn’t that _stupid_. If he catches on, the plan will fail.”

Mark shrinks in his seat and pulls up his turtleneck to cover as much of his reddening face. “Fuck off. Give the inexperienced guy a break, okay?”

“Wait, what?” Donghyuck asks, shocked. “You’ve never dated before? No way. I find that hard to believe.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Uh.” Donghyuck clears his throat, waving the comment away. “Nothing. It wasn’t an insult. But seriously? No wonder you’re totally inept at this. Well, no worries. _I’ll_ just be guiding you then. Plus - ” he leans forward in his seat with an impish grin. “This is also a great opportunity for you to practice for the day you get a real lover, don’t cha think?”

Embarrassed at revealing his lack of dating experience and at how unfortunately attractive Mark finds Donghyuck’s smile to be, Mark doesn’t know what to do but to crumple up a paper napkin and throw it at Donghyuck’s face. Donghyuck gasps, offended, before he picks it up and hurls it back. Mark finds himself laughing but also finds it a little bizarre. Mark was so used to seeing Donghyuck as his insufferable roommate that it’s become unfamiliar to him to see anything other than that. Mark feels guilty for having assumed him to be an irritating and intimidating character in the first place, but he can’t help that first impressions sum up future perceptions. 

But now, Mark realizes that underneath all that silver hanging off of him and that snarky facade is a pretty cool, down-to-earth, and actually warm guy. Well, sometimes. Mark’s just surprised Donghyuck hasn’t hexed _him_ yet. For a witch who’s supposed to be all about medicine and healing, Donghyuck sure does spend a lot of his time cursing people. Mark supposes it’s one of his many quirks. 

His friends, on the other hand, scare the shit out of him.

Mark was furiously scribbling down notes one day while watching a documentary about the history of the Latin language outside the library. Being the diligent student he was while waiting for Donghyuck’s class to end in an hour since Mark was going to give him a ride home, he ends up working ahead of his syllabus until a lump of white fur suddenly drops down from above his head and plants itself over his notes. Mark barely stifles a scream when the skidding of chairs alerts him, and he finds Renjun and Jaemin on each side of him. 

“Hi,” Renjun says with a sweet smile, though it falls short when he ends up scowling at the golden dust that keeps raining all over his shoulders.

“Uh, hey. Um.” Mark pauses the video and scoots back so he can look at the both of them, though he shrinks in his seat when all they do is stare at him intensely. Mark doesn’t know what to do but to point at the lump of white fur on his notes while beginning to think there’s something on his face - perhaps the look of pure, unadulterated terror. “What the fuck is _that_?”

The lump of white fur slowly unfurls from its curled position, and up springs a small fluffy fox with an even fluffier tail - or _tails_ , when Mark counts three - and the pointed tips of its ears and tails were a sleek red. Matching curlicues of red were adorned beneath its yellow eyes as well. 

Mark stares at it. Then he squeals and jumps in his seat, “Holy fuck! You are the _cutest_ thing ever. You’re so fluffy. Oh my God. Adorable. Absolutely adorable. Why is a fox here? I don’t care, but you’re so cute! Jesus fuck, can I pet you? Wait, can I hold you? I’m going to hold - ouch, why’d you bite me?”

“Because that hurts, you jackass,” the fox replies. Mark freezes and stares. 

“Mark,” Renjun says, “meet Yangyang in his spirit form.”

“Yangyang?” Mark’s mouth creaks open. He feels dread sink in his stomach at the revelation. Yangyang - the shapeshifter. The troublemaker. The impersonator. Holy fuck. Mark groans and shrinks in on himself. “Oh my God. _Please_ don’t kill me.” 

“I’m not gonna kill you,” Yangyang assures in delight. He jumps down onto Mark’s lap and nestles close to him, his tails swishing gently back and forth. Mark is both scared and endeared. “I heard from Donghyuck you like cute things, and _I’m_ cute, so I thought it’d entice you to speak honestly.”

“Huh? About what?”

Renjun gives Mark a pointed, levelled stare. “About Donghyuck. Look, I’m gonna be blunt here, Mark. What’s your intention?”

Mark darts his eyes back and forth between them. Jaemin looks close to falling asleep. “Sorry. My _what_?”

“Your _intention_ ,” Renjun stresses. He leans forward and Mark leans back. “No random person - human, of all things in this ungodly planet - just suddenly agrees to fake date someone they barely know. Like, would I ever fake date _him_ even though we’ve been friends for more than five years?” He points at Jaemin who blinks. “Hell no.”

Jaemin shrugs in his gloomy disposition. “It’s true. Love doesn’t exist.”

Mark is getting overwhelmed from how completely different their attitudes are. Renjun points a finger at him. “What makes this even more suspicious is that you two were at each other’s throat before. I’ve heard Donghyuck complain about you for what could constitute as a decade already. So, what’s with the sudden change of heart, huh? What’s your motive? Tell me what your true intentions are or else I’m going to jam your laptop with all of this annoying faerie dust.” 

“Wha - _no_ , please don’t!” Mark exclaims, frantically holding his hands out to protect his laptop. “Dude, I’m not - I don’t have any intentions except to help him! I just - um, really like bubble tea and I thought maybe we could be actual friends after this instead of strangers living together? I don’t know! But I’m innocent, I swear. Like, okay. Maybe sometimes I park really bad that I take up two parking spots but that’s only if it’s in the dead of the night and sometimes I forget to leave the door open for the person behind me and I can’t sleep at night because of that but I swear I’ve never done wrong serious shit to people. I mean, I don’t even _know_ a lot of people. I only have like three friends, my brother and his friend are experiencing this vague romantic nature to their friendship, and my therapist’s _kinda_ my friend but not really because we also have to keep things professional but he’s like the biggest dork ever and he once threw a rubber duck at my face for being pessimistic and - “

“Okay, _okay_.” Renjun waves his hand at him to stop his rambling and Mark immediately shuts his mouth. Jaemin was folded over in his seat in an uncontrollable fit of laughter which was a surprising sight to see in the first place. “Jeez, did you even _breathe_ when you were saying all of that?” 

“I’ve been told I use my diaphragm well,” Mark says weakly. 

“You are the cutest human being I have ever met,” Jaemin speaks through a bubble of laughter, reaching over to pinch Mark on the cheek. Mark swats his hand away and it makes Jaemin laugh even harder. “What is this warm feeling in my chest? Ah. Perhaps love truly does exist after all! Please marry me.”

“Uhhhh - ”

“Jaemin, shut up with your indecisive anti-cupid propaganda already,” says Renjun.

Yangyang ignores them in favour of saying, “Wowza. It’s about time Donghyuck finally found someone who’s actually _nice_ , even if it’s all fake.” 

“Does he, uh. Date a lot of asshole-y people?” 

“On the surface? No. Deep down? Yes.” Renjun sighs. “It's a common occurrence. Every person he dates ends up showing their true colours after a few months in, like that one human girl who dated Donghyuck just for the show of it. Now, Zilge. He was pretty friendly at first _until_ he started to leech off of Donghyuck and act all shady. Then out of the blue, Zilge dumped him through text message saying he got bored or whatever. That’s like a huge slap in the face.”

Jaemin nods, shoulders deflated. “What's worse is that I think Donghyuck actually liked him. Zilge was pretty charming and all. I was half-convinced too until he started to act like a douchenoggin. _He_ is the reason why love doesn't exist.”

“Oh,” Mark frowns. He takes everything he said about having doubts on exacting revenge back; Zilge can go find a rotten spider in his protein shake. “How come Donghyuck doesn't seem very affected by it?”

“That’s ‘cause he’s probably used to it.” Renjun stands up from his seat and dusts the gold off of his trousers, visibly displeased with the mess. “Or he’s probably got the toughest backbone in the whole universe. Most likely both. Here’s to hoping that if his plan does succeed, Zilge will lose all his credibility and rep. Anyways,” Renjun says while he tugs at Jaemin's arm and snaps his fingers at Yangyang to follow. “We're done our job. Nice getting to know you, Mark.” 

“You’re pocket-buddy worthy,” Jaemin beams. 

Yangyang says, “And you’re a very warm pillow. This makes me want to impersonate you even more! But sadly, it’s time for me to leave and go terrorize my upperclassman.” 

“Thanks. You too?” Mark responds unsurely. “Wait. If it's just you three interrogating me, should I expect Jeno waiting for me at the corner of my street trying to steal my soul later?”

Jaemin nonchalantly replies, “Nah. Jeno likes you. Well, likes your _soul_ , but he likes you.” 

Renjun snorts. “Treat your fake boyfriend nicely, Mark. Or I _will_ find other ways to make you suffer.”

Mark blanches and throws him the okay sign even though Renjun doesn't present himself as intimidating - what with the faerie dust outlining him in sparkly gold and not. Mark watches Yangyang hop onto the table before into Jaemin’s arms and Mark tries to restrain himself from touching Yangyang’s tail that looks like a tangible cloud. He watches on with jealousy when Jaemin rubs his cheek against Yangyang’s fluffy head. Then, Renjun throws an arm around Jaemin’s shoulder and Mark watches the three of them leave, heading down the corridor of the library building until they disappear behind the doors. Mark looks down at his ruined notes. Again. Donghyuck has the weirdest friends. But they’re admirably protective. That's nice. 

Hearing about Donghyuck’s unfortunate experiences with his ex-partners ignited a fire of determination within Mark, though. After getting to know Donghyuck a lot more, Mark thinks that Donghyuck deserves a lot better than fickle jocks with egos largely inflated like the gas prices.

Nodding resolutely to himself with newfound willpower, Mark is going to try his hardest to be the best fake boyfriend there ever is to exist in the entire world.

x

Well. Emphasis on the _try_ part.

“Donghyuck, get your dirty feet off of my dashboard, you uncivilized imp,” Mark complains, one hand on the steering wheel while the other is shoving at Donghyuck’s leg. 

“What? Your car is already a pigsty,” Donghyuck says as he lounges in the passenger seat reclined to the furthest extent, sipping on his yakult drink. How anyone can ingest dairy at such an ungodly time in the morning is incomprehensible to Mark. “Two eyes on the road, Mark! Don’t mind me, your guest, just browsing nature in all its glory through the window. I do think you might wanna pick up the speed, though.”

“I’m already going at the city’s max speed limit!”

“C’mon, live a little, Mark. Stop being such a goody-two shoes. The least you can do is go at _sixty_ per hour, and if a little piggy cop catches us, we’ll just zip outta here! Are all humans a bunch of wimps?”

“No,” Mark grumbles with a pout as he watches a train shoot out from a commute tube and into the air, leaving behind a trail of smoke. “All of you are just mean.” 

Ever since their fake relationship has been established, he and Donghyuck have been crossing paths a lot more often that Mark would like. Donghyuck’s been dragging him out of bed as soon as daybreak and when the larks start to chirp just so they can get to the cafe at the same time as Zilge. 

Mark is not a morning person and neither does he have the semblance of functionality to deal with Donghyuck so early in the morning that then results into a persistent grumpiness throughout the day, but he’s already committed to the plan. There’s no going back, even if all he wants to do is lie down and contemplate the futility of an arts degree. 

After several embarrassing failed attempts of reverse parking in a cramped spot of the university parking lot that took at least nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds, Mark finally perfects his position. With a satisfied sigh, Mark grabs his bags and as soon as he steps out of the car, Donghyuck comes barrelling over to him and snatches his hand.

Mark heats up. “What’re you doing?” 

“It’s game time, Mark,” Donghyuck says as though it was obvious. Mark didn’t think it was. “You gotta put on your boyfriend facade. Remember what I said about being more lovey dovey? It’s time for you to show me what you’re made of!”

Mark groans and reluctantly follows after Donghyuck as they head into the cafe. When the bell of the door chimes, Mark finds Zilge in all his terrifying green glory waiting at the counter holding the waist of a girl with long, brown hair. Zilge turns around and notices them walking in hand-in-hand, looking borderline pissed and annoyed that was contained in a complacent smile. Mark glances at Donghyuck to find him looking triumphant but confused at Zilge’s new partner.

“Morning. Fancy meeting you here, Zilge,” Donghyuck says sweetly. 

“Donghyuck,” Zilge sneers. “Still with the human, huh?”

“The human has a name, and his name is _Mark_ ,” Donghyuck retorts as he wraps an arm around Mark’s torso, snuggling close to his shoulder. “And he’s my super snuggly huggable love muffin.” 

Mark fights off the urge to cringe and internally groans when Donghyuck discreetly nudges him in the side. He takes in a deep breath and says through gritted teeth, “Hi. Hello. Morning? Yes. It’s true. And Donghyuck is my - _ahem_ , fluffy honey lovey yummers baby cakes.” 

Mark tries to contain his grimace and a shiver of disgust that courses throughout his body. He holds back a gag. Donghyuck sighs dreamily. “You are so sweet, gosh! Humans are such better companions. I knew it was the right choice to finally accept your advances, Mark. I guess I have you to thank, Zilge, for helping me open my eyes!” He turns to Zilge’s girlfriend. “He does wonders, really. I’m sure he’ll also help you too.”

Mark is seconds away from hurling his guts out while Zilge’s girlfriend calmly watches on with interest. He isn’t made for grueling social situations and he’s half-certain he’s about to be clubbed to death in public when the baristas call out Zilge’s name for his drink. That saves Mark’s ass when Zilge’s murderous spell seems to dissipate, replaced with a relaxed smile that’s even more scarier than his usual hostile nature. Mark is _sweating_. 

“Don’t listen to him, Mina,” Zilge says as he nudges her to the side. “Donghyuck’s always been all talk but no action. Take his words at face value, why don’t you?”

Mina raises a perfectly arched eyebrow and crosses her arms. “I can judge whether or not to take something seriously without your help, Zilge.” 

“Yeah, listen to your brilliant girlfriend, Zilge. Don’t be such a dickhead. It’s the 21st century and we’ve come a _long_ way, you know.” Donghyuck fuels the flames. “Get out of the testosterone-filled gym once in a while and attend a Women’s March, will you?”

Zilge is left speechless and Mina smiles approvingly at Donghyuck. She takes one good look at Zilge’s disgruntled countenance and rolls her eyes before she tells the both of them that it was nice to meet them. Then, Mark is watching them take their drinks, and Mina half-drags Zilge out of there to avoid any further development of repressed anger and inclination for confrontations. 

As soon as the both of them were out of sight, Donghyuck lifts up their intertwined hands and studies Mark with a concerned frown. “Jesus, Mark. It wasn’t even that long of a conversation and you’re already sweating like a sinner in church.” 

“I sweat a lot when I’m nervous, okay, asshole!” Mark whispers harshly. Curse his sensitive sweat glands. “You are such an instigator, you know that? I feel like I’m going to get my head bagged and kidnapped and abandoned in the next convenient ditch when I’m turning around a corner.”

Donghyuck slants him a quizzical look. “Man. Lay off the crime movies, will you?”

“I can’t help it, okay? Yukhei makes me watch his old 90’s Hong Kong gangster films with him and he _knows_ how much it feeds my imagination and paranoia especially in this day and age! So If I die by homicide because of a jealous orc, I hope you get your ass busted and landed in jail with a bunch of - a bunch of alligator prison guards who have gigantic sharp teeth and can snap your head off like a piece of cookie while your head is shimmying down their digestive tracts like a salsa dance!”

Donghyuck stares at him flatly. Mark wavers and sheepishly retracts his hand from Donghyuck’s grip, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans. “Yukhei makes me watch his stupid alligator horror movies too but that’s not the point.“ He shakes his head. “What now? Zilge has a girlfriend. And she’s really pretty and nice and kind of intimidating. He doesn’t seem like he’s gonna come begging you to take him back. He seems more keen on butchering my human parts instead.” 

“Don’t you know that he’s just playing the same game as me?” Donghyuck scoffs. “He’s gonna come running in no time once he finally gives into his pride. And that’s the whole point, Mark. He hates your human guts _and_ he’s a competitive asshole. He doesn’t want to be known as the dude who got easily replaced by a human.” He rubs his hands together evilly, grinning. “Jokes on him, though. I’ve _never_ lost at my own games. That fucker’s going down!” 

Mark scrubs a hand over his tired face but winces when he realizes how many germs he just smeared all over his face. He’s gonna have to steal one of Yerim’s prized face masks later on in the day to use. “Can you just please go get your coffee already?” 

Donghyuck laughs at Mark’s disgruntlement. He reaches over and grabs Mark by the sides of his face, pinching his cheeks. “You’re really cute, you know that? Ah, there you go again,” he notes calmly as Mark’s face heats up again. Curse his penchant for blushing. What the fuck. 

“I’m not cute,” Mark mumbles, trying his hardest to keep his composure. Donghyuck hums and lets go of him, before sticking his tongue and skipping to the till to place his order. Mark watches on with a strange combination of endearing dread in his accelerating heartbeat, and wonders how Donghyuck can simultaneously invoke fear for his future as well as feelings of fondness. His face is warm, but the places where Donghyuck touched him is even warmer. 

Definitely not good for his heart.

x

“Okay. So, let me get this straight,” Yerim begins as she she smears the contents of the sparkly mud mask all over Mark’s face, ignoring his snort. She steps back, her own face covered in a green mask that made her look like a walking wasabi with a tornado towel on her head. “You’re fake dating your roommate to make his orc ex-boyfriend jealous because he really hates humans and doesn’t like your roommate dating a human because it looks as though the orc ex-boyfriend lost to a human that’s a subpar inferior creature in his eyes which will jeopardize his reputation as a suave Casanova varsity athlete?”

“God, I love spa day,” Mark mumbles. “But yes. Essentially. Although you forgot the part where I’m probably going to get my head bashed into a wall.”

“Mark, you should know by now that Yukhei likes to embellish facts,” Yerim says. “Zilge is gonna break a limb or two at most, but definitely no bashing heads into walls.”

“That does _not_ make me feel any better, you sea urchin.” 

Yerim grins, shrugging as she resumes putting the mask on him. “I can’t believe you actually agreed. Don’t you have some vestige of self-preservation?”

“But you should have seen Donghyuck’s eyes,” Mark says. “They were so _sparkly_. And I just - I don’t know! I was kinda, maybe, perhaps a _tiny_ bit happy he asked me to help him, because I thought after almost half a year of never getting along as roommates, I thought it was time we could be, like, friends? And maybe I’d get the chance to understand him better in this unorthodox opportunity.”

Yerim seems a bit more sympathetic. “You couldn’t have just asked him out for coffee and hit it up from there?”

“High school teachers lied, Yerim. It’s difficult to make friends when you’re a half-functioning adult. I couldn’t just do that. The process of establishing friendships is different now that everyone I meet in his city is a magical being. If I have to fake date him in order to be friends, then so be it.” Mark juts his chin forward with determination, though his act of resolve is hindered by a sneeze when he sniffs in the product that Yerim was spreading over his face. 

“Sounds fake but okay,” Yerim sounds dubious. “Be careful though, alright? I’d hate to see you get hurt. If Donghyuck _does_ hurt you, I’ll sneak into his place and replace his shampoo with shaving cream so he gets out of the shower all hairless like a shiny naked mole rat.”

“Please don’t do that.”

Yerim laughs good-naturedly and puts away the mask jar when she’s done. She puts sliced cucumbers over his eyes and tells him to relax as she leaves to grab a few things. Left to his own thoughts, Mark wonders why Yerim would think Donghyuck might hurt him. It’s not as though Mark actually _like_ likes Donghyuck. So what if Mark finds Donghyuck pretty attractive, his bratty attitude gradually becoming _kind_ of endearing, and his softness a nice sight to behold? 

What bro _doesn’t_? Yukhei always tells Mark he’s got a nice smile. Mark always compliments Yukhei’s super guns after hitting the gym. They’re the best of bros. Yukhei is the jelly to his peanut butter, the bro to his -tagonist (which equals to _bro_ tagonist), the friend to his ship, the Robin Hood flour to his cookies. It’s _totally_ what bros do. 

So, no way is Mark falling for Donghyuck and fucking himself over with unbegotten feelings. It’s all fake! His feelings are fake! Everything is fake! Mark wrinkles his nose. Wait. That sounds a bit too harsh. He shakes his head. Mark may be a little bit on the inept side but he can handle the task of keeping this fake dating deal strictly platonic. Mark knows Yerim is merely being protective and he appreciates that, unlike Yukhei who is having the time of his life watching Mark suffer. 

When Yerim finally returns and sits beside him, she grabs his hand. Mark asks her what she was doing, to which she replies, “I’m gonna do your nails. I’m thinking a pearlescent gradient blue.”

“Is it sparkly?”

“Oh, you betcha. It’s as sparkly as my mum’s retro glittery sequined dress.” 

Mark sighs fondly. The perks of having a glamorous and sensible siren friend.

x

When Mark comes home to find Donghyuck lounging on the couch upside down, he takes one good look at Mark’s nails and nods approvingly. “Sweet. Didn’t peg you as a nail polish guy, Markle Sparkle.”

Mark spreads his fingers and admires the pretty blue colour. “Yerim’s got great taste. Spa day really is the best. My face feels all buttered up like a newborn baby’s sticky butt.”

“I’m totally gonna ignore the whole rhyming thing you just said there.”

Mark snickers and plops down onto the seat beside Donghyuck, catching a glimpse of the book Donghyuck was reading that had something to do with the history and development of spells. Mark doesn’t know how Donghyuck can even register any information in that kind of reading position, but he supposes that Donghyuck’s constitution of multi-colored contradictions includes idiosyncratic talents. But as his eyes innocently roams around, Mark catches the sight of tanned skin of Donghyuck’s tummy peeking out from underneath his slightly rolled up t-shirt. Mark instantly freaks out, grabs a cushion from the side, and slaps it over the small display of skin. 

“Hey!” Startled, Donghyuck rolls off of the couch and onto the carpeted floor, looking surprised. “What was _that_ for? You got beef with me, Lee? You pickin’ a fight with me or something?” He holds up a fist that doesn’t seem very threatening. 

“No,” Mark immediately replies and laughs nervously. “Just thought I’d - you know, uhhh - _wow_ , look at the time!” He looks at his wrist that did _not_ have a watch on it. “Jeez, I’ve a paper due in about four hours and I haven’t started at all. Better get on it, being the conscientious student I am. Haha! Okay bye.”

Mark springs up from the couch and briskly walks away, hearing Donghyuck ask after him, “Why do you have so many fuckin’ papers?”

He shuts the door of his room and begins pacing around. That was weird. Totally weird. As if he hasn’t seen a stomach before! He’s seen many stomachs. He’s seen Yukhei’s stomach, his brother’s stomach, the stomachs of many of his male classmates back in high school when they changed in the locker rooms. Donghyuck’s stomach is just a stomach. Mark rubs his face. Why is he thinking about stomachs? Even weirder. But it was a cute tummy, to say the least.

Mark lets out a sigh and sinks in his swivel chair before he smacks his head down onto his desk. He doesn’t have a good feeling about this. Not at all.


	2. you prickle my fancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #roasted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u enjoy !!

There’s something weird going on with Donghyuck.

Mark can’t exactly pinpoint what it is. Donghyuck’s been clinging onto his arm and resting his head on his shoulder for what feels like forever, and though Donghyuck is touchy, he isn’t _that_ touchy considering their nuanced relationship.

They’re in the dark living room, the bright screen of the television - since when did they get a television? - flickering strips of blue light across their faces. Why isn’t Donghyuck speaking? Donghyuck _always_ yaps away like a fucking bird, providing unnecessary commentary to piss Mark off whenever they watch a movie. Mark wonders if he did something to upset him. Should he apologize? But he doesn’t know what he did _if_ he did do something. Wait a minute. Mark doesn’t even remember making plans to watch a movie with Donghyuck in the first place. When did this happen?

As if Donghyuck has sensed Mark’s internal conflict, he looks up at Mark with such an intense and unnerving gaze that it startles him. Their close proximity precipitates the somersaults in Mark’s stomach, and as he tries to lean back, Donghyuck moves forward, boxing him in when Mark’s back hits the arm of the sofa.

“What are you - “ the words get caught in Mark’s throat when Donghyuck rests his forehead against his. Mark can feel Donghyuck’s breath graze his cheek.

“Hey,” Donghyuck murmurs, a distant gloss in his eyes, “you’ve always kinda liked me, haven’t you?”

Bug-eyed and a little horrified, Mark can only helplessly watch as Donghyuck slowly leans in, their lips dangerously close, with Mark’s heartbeat spiking so high that he fears he’s going to go into cardiac arrest when the sudden cacophony of banging doors and incoherent yelling from afar rips the entire room apart and Mark -

finds himself thrashing awake and rolling off his bed with a yelp, face-planting onto the hard wooden floor of his bedroom. Mark lies there, flat on the floor, for a few moments with a blank mind. He can hear the morning larks singing outside. Most of all, he hears Donghyuck banging the door and shouting at him to wake up without any human consideration of their neighbors, until Mark hears his door being thrown open.

“Get your tiny ass out of - oh. You’re already out of bed?” Donghyuck sounds surprised. “Now, that’s new. I was about to, like, plant a seed in your ear until it grows into a mini humanoid and yell into your eardrums. Well, then. Rise and shine, it’s time to wine for another day of revenge!” A pause. “And coffee. So get up already, you slowpoke.”

While Donghyuck laughs evilly to himself and walks right back out, Mark slowly lifts his head and stares at the wall. Then he drags himself up from the floor like an empty vessel before his floating and disembodied spirit finally inhabits his body once again, and Mark’s eyes suddenly snap wide open, embarrassment and dread and complete terror filling his entire body in one, fluid permeation.

“What,” Mark whispers, “the _fuuuuuck._ ”

He falls back onto his bed and rolls around before he buries his face into his pillow, kicking his feet up in the air with growing distress. This is not good. _Not_ Good. Super not good. What the fuck was that? What the hell is Mark doing, dreaming about kissing Donghyuck? Like, his pheromones hasn’t even been activated since that one time he ventured onto Pornhub out of curiosity and realized that the human body can truly bend in many, different creative ways to guarantee optimum pleasure. He was _fourteen_ when he watched someone put the pecker into someone else’s bung holeo in terror. Now, he’s _twenty_ , and still has _no_ thoughts of wanting to go look at the dinky in the urethra hole or touch another person’s tactile sensory organ with _his_ tactile sensory organ on the face. _Especially_ not Donghyuck’s. It doesn’t make sense!

Mark rolls around until he’s wrapped up in his blanket like a sleep-laden sushi roll. He stares up at the ceiling and thinks about Donghyuck in his dream. Smooth ass motherfucker. What does he mean by “you’ve always kinda liked me”? Mark’s never liked him! Well, Mark does like him, but not in the way that Dream Donghyuck suggested. The real Donghyuck has always been a pain in the ass who's got the charismatic skill of turning every enemy into a friend but Mark never has the heart to actually hate someone. Sure, he was fed up and annoyed most of the time, but that just meant Donghyuck was a bad roommate - not a bad _person_. That doesn’t mean Mark wants to kiss him, though. They’ve only been fake dating for almost two weeks at most and there's _no_ way Mark is going to genuinely fall for Donghyuck. Sure, maybe he _might_ see it coming for an inexplicable reason that's too distant to reach his orbit of comprehension, but Mark is certain that this is all a farce! His brain is notorious for making mistakes. No fucking way does Mark want to kiss Donghyuck. Nuh-uh. They're just fake dating. Complete emphasis on the _fake_.

“Maaaark!”

He groans and unrolls himself. Finally getting out of bed, Mark slaps his own cheeks and glares at the floor, desperately repeating to himself like a life-saving mantra: _It’s just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything!_

With a deep intake of breath, Mark nods. His inexperience is making him jump to conclusions and exercise his unfortunately wild imagination. It was all a product of his immature romantic mind! He’s merely happy that he and Donghyuck are getting along better than before and that Donghyuck hasn't cursed him yet and stabbed pins into a doll version of Mark.

Totally nothing more than that. _Totally_ not.

 

x.

At the cafe, Donghyuck makes a comment about Mark’s jittery disposition and dark circles that look as though ash was smeared underneath his eyes. What did he expect? Mark sleeps at four in the morning and wakes up in less than five hours later.

When Zilge shows up with his teammates all clad in varsity jackets that makes Mark sweat a little bit more, Donghyuck smacks the pen out of Mark’s hand, grabs it, and brings Mark’s hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it. Mark nearly self-combusts into oblivion until he swears there’s smoke coming out of his ears. The vestiges of his dream comes back in full-force and he vigorously shakes his head to make it disappear. He is _not_ having a crisis at nine in the morning.

When he sneaks a glance at Zilge, he’s seen to be visibly clenching his jaw but doesn’t spare them a glance as he heads towards the counter with his friends in tow. Cue in Donghyuck’s constant repertoire of praising Mark as the better boyfriend, Mark doesn’t how to respond to all the compliments that aren’t even inherently true. Mark should be used to it now, but he’s not accustomed to the bombardment of gratitude aimed at his entire existence, making him painfully awkward and clueless as to how to respond.

But neither does he want their interactions to come off as one-sided either, so he ends up blurting out, “What made you fall for me?”

Donghyuck blinks, surprised at the unexpected question. Mark is too. That was the single handedly most cheesiest line to have ever come out of his mouth and he wants to rinse his mouth with litres of mouthwash. Donghyuck darts a glance towards Zilge who was busy ordering at the counter, before he leans forward and hisses, “Dude, I don’t know you enough to answer why I fell for you. Why did I fall for you?”

“Why are you asking me that? I can’t fall for myself!”

“What do you mean you can’t? That’s called self-love, you dweeb.” Donghyuck looks appalled, before he picks up his half-eaten bagel and brings it up towards Mark’s lips. “I’m running out of things to say. Quick, say _ah_.”

Mark stares at the bagel until he goes cross-eyed. “What do you take me as? A raccoon scavenging for leftovers? Fuck that. I’ll let you know that I’m - “

“ _Aaaah_ ,” Donghyuck aggressively speaks over him as he stabs Mark’s mouth with the bagel. Mark swallows down his embarrassment and takes a bite from it, trying to reign control over the blush undoubtedly rising to his face. But it seems as though he fails when Donghyuck raises his eyebrows at him, cheeks bulging after piling the rest of the bagel into his mouth that made him look like a wide-eyed squirrel.

“Waw,” he speaks with his mouth full. “Yew brush reely eazly.”

“Shut the heck up! I can’t believe you just fed me a bagel when I’m lack-toast intolerant,” Mark gripes, glaring down with a fake frown. He looks up with his lips twitching when a giggle escapes past Donghyuck’s mouth until it accumulates into hearty laughter that fills the cafe with a mellifluous sound. Donghyuck is burying his face into the crook of his elbow on the table now, and when he glances up to meet Mark’s eyes, Mark finally erupts into laughter as well.

Once Donghyuck collects his breath, he sniffles and wipes the tears away from the corner of his eyes. “You’re so freakin’ lame, Mark. I hope you never change.”

Something warm flickers in Mark’s chest and he beams, feeling indescribably happy to hear that. But then he remembers where they are and he immediately glances over to the counter, surprised to see that Zilge and his friends are already gone. Mark hasn’t even noticed that they’ve left, and Donghyuck seems to mirror his thoughts.

“Are you sure the plan is working?” Mark voices his doubts for the nth time. “He hasn’t really done anything yet.”

Donghyuck yawn and leans back in his seat, stretching. “He’s just being a prideful asshole. Don’t worry. We just gotta amp up our game a little higher and I have the _perfect_ plan.” He leans forward, his hands intertwined like a villain exposing his plan for world domination. “There’s a game comin’ up for the InterSpecies League Cup in a month and a half. It’s gonna be a home game and our football field has a huge jumbotron. So, if it catches the both of us, _everyone_ is gonna be able to see it - including the players.”

“There’s going to be a ton of people at the game. What makes you so sure the jumbotron is gonna show _us_?”

Donghyuck taps his fingers against the table in an oscillation, a sneaky smile on his face. “My friends and I aren’t exactly upstanding citizens of society, you know? They’re a good ass team for infiltrating the entertainment system. Just, well, sit down and look pretty while I pull some strings. Whaddya say?”

Mark blinks. “You think I’m pretty?”

“That’s seriously all you got from what I just said?”

Mark purses his lips to stop himself from smiling. Donghyuck lets out an exasperated huff, his cheeks pink. Though Mark doesn’t like the sound of Donghyuck’s plan that will possibly force them to act out public displays of affection to almost half the entire student population at a football game, he supposes if Donghyuck’s got that crafty look in his eyes, then the plan would surely work. Donghyuck excels in the art of trickery, after all. Mark sighs and consents to the plan. Why not? Mark doesn’t think anything can go wrong with jumbotrons involved.

In the meantime, Mark’s plot for survival will comprise of isolating himself in the very comfort of his room and using Yukhei and Yerim as bodyguards to ward off any beady-eyed, club-wielding greensters. Oh, what fun.

 

x.

If Mark was in theatre, he’d be a prop.

Underwhelming, blends into the background perfectly, and nicely bland. Throw in a pinch of nervous habits and a sprinkle of self-deprecation, a prop is an accurate summation of his whole existence in this technicolour world where its inhabitants are _not_ the stereotypical paradigms of ravaging monsters as portrayed in the roleplaying games Mark used to play.

Most of all, that’s pretty much the life expected of a human. Humans are boring. Creatures with magical powers, horns, tails, wings, scales and otherworldly appendages? Definitely a whole lot more exciting.

And as a human, Mark doesn’t mind the life of being in the shadows. He’s comfortable being in the backdrop of things - of being the very much quiet pillar of support, but no. _No._ Donghyuck and his fucking hobby for petty revenges and pettier reasons for said revenges just had to drag Mark into the spotlight and collect the jealous rage from an orc ex-boyfriend who’s got some serious superiority issues because Mark’s been running into that jerk a lot more than he wanted. _So much for a plot for survival,_ Mark thinks petulantly.

Like, what kind of jock goes to the bookstore? Why is Mark always running into Zilge whenever Mark turns around a corner or when he simply wants to relieve himself in the washroom but instead, runs into Zilge with his green dick out of his pants that Mark prefers to have never seen? The fates are conspiring against him! Now, Mark’s walking around with a target on his back. He might as well carry a neon-lit sign saying: _Come and get me, you green fucker!_

“I can make that sign, if you want,” Yukhei interrupts his train of thought. Mark flinches and nearly knocks over his water bottle when he springs up from leaning on the table.

“What?”

Yukhei snorts, flipping a page from his textbook. “You do know you’ve been muttering your thoughts out loud for, like, the past fifteen minutes, right? Was his green dick big? How many inches we talkin’ about here?”

“Oh my - ”

“I like the sound of your sign too, bro. ‘Come and get me, you green fucker!’ Amazing. But fuck neon. I vote for a throwback to preschool: glitter glue, holographic letters, _and_ glow-in-the-dark paint.”

Mark exclaims in horror, “We are _not_ doing that, you asshole!”

The others sharing the same space as them in the library whirl around from their individual studies to simultaneously hush at them. Mark shrinks from the collective dirty looks, and shrinks even further when a young man with a fluffy case of mutton chops glares at Mark before jabbing a finger at his cubicle’s array of buttons, setting up a soundproof barrier over his space that would mute external noise.

Mark sheepishly gives them apologetic looks for his loudness. Then, he turns his attention back to Yukhei, who was doing a poor job of holding in his laughter and hisses, “Shut up. You’re totally not helping me and my unfavourable circumstances.”

“What do you mean unfavourable? It’s true you’ve got a bounty on your head but at least you’re having fun with Donghyuck, aren’t you?”

Mark pauses and frowns. Though he hates to admit it, Yukhei is right. He actually _is_ having fun (despite death looming over him) which is strange in itself, because Mark’s been accustomed to basically never seeing Donghyuck due to their different schedules.

But now, Mark’s been spending time with Donghyuck pretty much everyday, whether it’s acting as a chauffeur and driving Donghyuck to the shadiest places in the city, watching him do his biweekly meditative rituals for the witchcraft deity Hecate, or meeting one of his coworkers by the name of Jungwoo who turns out to be a _dokkaebi_ that travels through a purple cauldron to challenge overseas humans to _ssireum_ matches. Plus, he can walk out of the cauldron water like fucking Jesus. For a swindling goblin, Mark had pictured a much more unpalatable appearance like one of those perpetually happy troll dolls with a furry up-comb, or at least one of those ancient patterned tiles Wikipedia had showed him, but no. He was extremely serene looking and handsome with a great nose. Totally unfair.

Either way, despite their fair share of squabbles and the increasing mortality risk from being exposed to various kinds of tricksters, Donghyuck turns out to be rather pleasant company. But Mark is never going to say that out loud. _Never_.

“What?” Yukhei interjects his thoughts once more, looking at Mark with hurt eyes. “I thought _I_ was pleasant company. Is Donghyuck replacing me now, huh?”

Fuck. Mark said that out loud. “Of course not! No one can replace you, bro. You’re, like, the pencil to my paper. The cheese to my patty. The apple to my pie.” He shoots him awkward finger guns. Yukhei clutches his heart and brings a fist to his mouth.

“Bro.” Yukhei chokes on fake tears. “I love you.”

Mark throws an eraser at him. “Weak. My love for you is so infinite that it can’t even be measured.”

“Well, my love for you is so vast that it can be felt across different planes of the universe.”

“Annulled. Denied. My love is - “ Mark trails off when a familiar figure of orange hair and an all-black attire in the periphery of his vision catches his attention, and he turns his head to the window and squints through his glasses. “Oh. That’s Donghyuck.”

Yukhei perks up and follows Mark’s gaze. As Mark squints even more and tilts his head upwards to sharpen his terrible eyesight, he notices another familiar person sticking his face way too close to Donghyuck’s neck. “The heck is that guy doing? Why’s he smelling Donghyuck? And in public? Like, that’s just - I mean, does Donghyuck really smell that good? No. Of course not! He smells like the salty ocean waves on a warm, sunny day with contrails in the sky in the middle of spring where the cherry blossoms are in full bloom. Hm.” Mark furrows his brows at what he just mindlessly spouted. “Um. I take that all back. He’s got the stinky stench of impending doom.”

“Whoa,” Yukhei breathes out in deep fascination, having completely ignored all of Mark’s rambling. “What a _beauty_.”

Mark whips his head towards Yukhei, alarmed. “What? _What_? Okay, dude. Like, yeah. I get you. Donghyuck is pretty, but you can’t go falling in love with _my_ fake boyfriend! That’s like a recipe for disaster and confusion and a broken heart! I can’t let you do that to yourself, man.”

“Not _Donghyuck_ ,” Yukhei says with a hint of longing and points at the sniffer. “ _Him_.”

Mark narrows his eyes. He plants his face right against the glass windowpane that knocks against his gilded frames and squints until his eyes are quivering. Donghyuck and the mystery person are kicking each other’s derriere at the quad, and once they finally turn around at an convenient angle for Mark to take a better look at the person’s face, the scrunchy nose and cute smile strikes him immediately. Mark looks back at Yukhei in surprise. “Jeno?”

“Jeno,” Yukhei sighs dreamily. “The name of an angel.”

“More like the name of a reaper,” Mark retorts in disbelief. “You and your kind really are into things that are associated with death.”

Yukhei dismisses the comment. Instead, he slaps his hands down onto the table and leans forward, looking at Mark with wide, pleading eyes. “Do me a favour and introduce me to him, please?”

“What am I? A matchmaker on ChristianMingle?”

“Come on, Mark. You can’t let me pass up this opportunity! The possible love of my life is right there kicking the butt of another guy and if that doesn’t scream soulmate, then I don’t know what does. If you do this for me, I’ll purposely forget the fact that you just called Donghyuck pretty.”

Mark nervously laughs, his voice growing high-pitched. “Whaaat. What? No I didn’t. You’re bonkers. Fuck.”

“Mhm.” Yukhei gives him a knowing look before he places his hands on the window and gazes wistfully at Jeno. Mark doesn’t even know how he can see so far and clearly, but Mark supposes it’s just his human subpar vision in comparison. “He’s adorable. Doesn’t he, like, remind you of a dog? Golden Retriever? Nah, _you’re_ a Golden Retriever. He’d be a Samoyed. Look at that nose. You think he’d give me a bubble bath? I have a hard time reaching the scales on my back. I bet he’d give good bubble baths.”

Mark gapes at him in horror and starts to quickly pack up his books. “Speak again and I’m never introducing you guys. Now follow me, you lewd barnacle butt.”

Yukhei beams and follows after Mark while lugging his water jug with him. They leave the library and briskly walk along the bridge hanging over a sparkling pond (Mark snaps a photo on the way), heading towards the quad where Donghyuck and Jeno were last seen dawdling about. Their play fighting figures grow larger and clearer as they approach them, and when Mark sneaks a glance up at Yukhei, he looked like he was on the verge of crying happily. Leave it to Yukhei and his sentimental heart.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Donghyuck smiles once he notices Mark and Yukhei. He’s got Jeno hooked in an armlock, knuckling him on the head. “Mark and - whoa, are you a half-dragon or some reptilian shit? Your scales look hella rad.”

“Sea serpent,” Yukhei corrects brightly, buzzing with pent-up energy. “Or aquatic dragon. Whatever floats your boat, man! My dead granny’s like, a descendant of an ancient water dragon deity.”

“Oh, Hecate’s Wheel! You’re a walking gemstone cavern.” Donghyuck beams. “Can I get a scale for research purposes?”

“Please don’t extract my friend’s scales,” Mark implores.

“C’mon, I was just joking. Maybe.”

Mark barely gets an answer in when Yukhei steps forward and shoots out an eager hand, tripping over his words in excitement, “I haven’t introduced myself yet. Yukhei am I! I mean, Yukhei’s me. I’m Yukhei, Mark’s long-suffering buddy and partner in crime. Sometimes. I don’t advocate crime. I’m a good lawful guy, ya know? But I’ve heard lots of great things about you, Donghyuck. Thank you for giving Mark a chance to taste the life of a taken man.”

“For _fuck’s_ sake - “

“But I don’t believe we’ve all met.” Yukhei turns to Jeno who was wiggling underneath Donghyuck’s armpit. “And this is...?”

“I’m Jeno.” He slips out from underneath Donghyuck’s arm and smiles at Yukhei before doing his weird sniffing regime. Yukhei looks like he’s in heaven and Mark can’t believe he just became an accidental voyeur. “You smell like uncouth youth and carefree joy with a hint of faint divinity. How delectable! Although I like Mark’s soul better, would you allow me the honour of escorting your soul to the afterlife when you die?”

“Holy. Shit.” Yukhei drops his jaw. “ _Fuck_ yeah.”

Mark shares a look with Donghyuck and mouths: _I’m scared._

Donghyuck shrugs as though this was an everyday common occurrence. While Jeno and Yukhei are caught up in discussing the complexity about the scent of souls, Mark last hears Yukhei throw in a pick-up line that was met with a sound of confusion before Donghyuck grabs Mark’s hand and drags him away from the quad, taking him out of earshot of their bizarre conversation. Mark can’t believe he just handed Yukhei over to a happy-go-lucky unofficial grim reaper. So much for best brotagonists. Now, Mark’s running _soul_ -o.

“Why are you laughing?” Donghyuck sends him a quizzical look.

“Nothing,” Mark covers his mouth with a hand. He clears his throat and squares his shoulders. “I just think I’m funny.”

“You sure are a strange one. Well, me and Jeno were gonna head to the greenhouse before he got whisked away by your scaley friend, so I guess I’ll just have you tag along with me! As boyfriends are supposed to do, of course.”

“Greenhouse? Why would you take me to a place full of creepy plants that’re gonna try and eat my toe again?”

“Please. Nothing’s gonna attempt to eat your toe this time. Trust me.”

Mark does not, in fact, trust Donghyuck as a whole, but Mark supposes that he can go along with believing that there is _some_ credibility of truth in Donghyuck’s words with how Donghyuck is still firmly holding onto his hand. The sudden realization that Donghyuck has soft hands strikes him like an unwanted virus on his laptop. Even worse is that Mark notices how Donghyuck’s hand lotion smells like tasty, kind plants. Something like rosemary and lavender and definitely not the mean plants that try to eat him.

The greenhouse was a large domed building skirting at the edge of campus with a solar thermal collector dish off to the far side, situated between a crowded trail of tall trees and a stretch of open land, away from all the regal brick buildings accented with grand fountains and statues. Mark notices that beyond the trail of trees was a timber fence that separated land from a creek where the water was turquoise and opalescent in the sunlight.

“I’ve never been at this part of campus,” Mark says, staring in awe. “This is, like, legitimately the epitome of magic.”

Donghyuck nods proudly. “You bet your little ass it is. This is the magic greenhouse. The normal greenhouse with, y’know, normal plants is on the other side. Just a safety precaution considering magic in itself is volatile and its malfunctions, for lack of better word, can spread pretty easily.”

“Are you sure I’m allowed to be here?”

“Why not? It’s not like you’re gonna steal anything. They’re gonna gobble you up before you even have the chance.” Donghyuck laughs before he points to a forked road ahead of them. “Also. There’s like a forest down there, by the way, that’s filled with red mushrooms with yellow polka dots and sparkling streams and baby deers.”

Mark gasps and frolics after Donghyuck, waving his hands around. “Did you just say sparkling streams? _Sparkling_? I wanna go! Take me there after. We can do some couple-y shit and have a picnic there or something. But oh my God. A sparkling stream! Sparkling water? I love sparkling water. I lied, I don’t, but a _sparkling_ stream?” He’s beaming at this point but then he abruptly stops. Did he just ask Donghyuck out for a picnic date? He quickly backtracks, sweating, “Shit, um. I mean. Uh, well. Like. As friends? You know? After this whole dating shmick is done? I mean - “

Donghyuck turns around and squishes Mark’s face together to get him to shut up. “Hey, Mr. Sparkle Chatterbox. Love the enthusiasm you got there but quit your yappin’ already or else I’m gonna put a sock in your mouth. I wanna see my babies. I’ll take you up on that picnic date offer some other time so stop looking like you’re about to shit in your pants. They can sense fear, y’know.”

Mark quickly nods. Donghyuck rolls his eyes and opens the door to the greenhouse for him. Mark pretends that he’s totally not happy Donghyuck mutually wants to go on a picnic with him. Bros do picnics! Absolutely. Fuck.

The inside of the greenhouse was even more magical. Filled with an abundance of variegated unfamiliar plants in varying shapes and sizes in organized rows on the side, it left the middle pathway free, framed by a long arbor that led to tables and shelves filled with horticultural instruments and books. A strip of stained glass was placed straight in the very middle of the ceiling and vents were lined across the sides of the roof. The spotted sunlight filtering through the windows painted the greenhouse in an old vignette-like picture. Mark’s never smelled such a sweet scent of the earth before.

“This is where my herbology class takes place in sometimes. Not that we learn anything in an actual classroom, but my professor likes to perpetuate good ol’ classic teaching traditions. He’s, like. What? Two hundred and thirty-two years old?” Donghyuck squints as he examines the leaf of a tall plant that has the height of a sunflower but the appearance of a corpse flower. Thank God it doesn’t smell like dirty diapers and mothballs.

“Dude,” Mark says in awe as he tries to measure the flower’s height with his arms. “This looks like a beautiful leafy dick.”

“Don’t call my babies a dick, you dick. Don’t stand so close either. It regurgitates acidic fluid from the very top.“

Mark immediately retreats and hides behind Donghyuck. “I can’t believe you grow poisonous dicks in this greenhouse! Please don’t take this back home and put it in my room. I rather take that parasitic tree any day over _this_.”

“Calm your little fishies.” Donghyuck lightly flicks him on the forehead before he continues down the pathway. Mark follows, throwing a cautious look at the penis plant. Donghyuck says, “Harsh winters are a pain to deal with, but the enchanted soil are supposed keep them healthy to a certain extent with the help of the solar energy we’ve collected. So, whaddya think?”

“I think this is _awesome_.”

“You haven’t seen the best of it yet.” Donghyuck takes him to the corner of the work benches that was shielded by an abundance of tall plants, and in the clearing, Donghyuck reveals a horrifyingly large and slobbering Venus flytrap to Mark. Donghyuck raises a hand and Mark watches with utmost incredulity as the Venus flytrap bows its head and knocks against Donghyuck’s opened palm.

“Who’s a good girl? _Who’s_ a good girl? Oh yes, you are, baby. _You_ are, my precious man-eating plant.” Donghyuck coos lovingly as he pets the large Venus flytrap that was panting like a dog. If Mark can convince himself that he was tripping on acid like a raving ape, then it would explain why he could see the flytrap _blushing_.

“Uh, did you just say _man_ -eating?”

“Duh. Mark, meet Coco,” Donghyuck hugs the head of the Venus flytrap. “She’s a rare-sized beauty and my beloved friend. She only eats humans if you piss her off but most of the time, she’s just a little shy. Isn’t she adorable?”

Mark stares as a large drop of spit splashes onto the floor from Coco’s sharply aligned mouth. “Oh. Yeah. Completely.”

“Wanna pet her?”

“No offence, but I kinda like having my arm being intact with the rest of my body?” Mark scoots to the side and yells when Donghyuck grabs his arm and starts dragging him towards Coco. “No, dude! C’mon. Humans are fragile beings, okay? I once got a scrape when I slid down the rubber slide of a bouncy castle. What makes you think we can go petting man-eating plants with sharp pointy teeth? Donghyuck, you bastard - look, she’s slobbering all over the place and I _just_ washed my hair!”

Despite his fervent and borderline desperate refusals to go anywhere near Coco, Donghyuck succeeds in planting him right before the Venus flytrap, hands firmly gripping his shoulders so that he wouldn’t escape. Mark watches as Coco leans its large head forward, possibly sniffing him with her invisible olfactory organs.

“Just put your hand up, man,” Donghyuck says as he nudges him. “Think of this as How To Train Your Dragon, but like, with a humongous plant.”

“Toothless is way cuter,” Mark mutters underneath his breath. He does as he’s told and lifts his hand up, watching as Coco stills for a quick moment before bumping her prickly head against his opened palm. Mark stares in both disbelief and in disgust, filled with strange adoration for the man-eating plant but infinitely grossed out by the viscuous slime of spit smearing all over his hand.

“You should let her chew on your arm,” Donghyuck comments casually. “It’s a great massage, especially if you’ve got a wonky carpal tunnel.”

“Dude, I’m not gonna let some Venus flytrap _vore_ me - ow,” Mark exclaims as Donghyuck barrels him to the side at the comment. Mark reaches longingly for Coco but is ultimately denied the access to her prickly head when Donghyuck stands before him as an obstacle.

“Mark, that’s gross.”

“ _You’re_ gross.”

“Asshole.”

“Hey, _you’re_ the one who’s fluent in asshole.”

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose and crosses his arms. “You are the _worst_ boyfriend ever.”

At that, Coco suddenly changes her demeanor. She snaps her mouth open, revealing a set of razor-sharp deadly teeth that can probably puncture a bunch of holes into Mark’s body until he’s a human sponge. Mark quite likes his body to be whole(less). He snorts to himself. Bad timing. Then, she lets out a predacious growl before screeching, “ _Boyfriend!_ ”

Mark freezes. His survival instincts kicks in and he whirls Donghyuck to the front, hiding behind him to protect himself. “I’ll be diddly damned, Donghyuck. Did Coco just _talk_?”

“Huh. Guess I forgot to tell you about that.”

“Boyfriend! Boyfriend!” Coco barks, snapping her mouth at the air as though she was hunting for a specific person. She sounds like a glitchy cyborg going haywire in the sci-fi movies Mark used to watch, and that was always a bad omen. “Bad boyfriend! Mark is cute... Mark is nice… friendly... Mark is annoying. But Coco… is cuter! Bad Mark! Bad boyfriend! Kill, kill, _kill_!”

“Donghyuck, your plant pet wants to kill me! Wait, while also complimenting me? What the fuck.”

Donghyuck grimaces and steps forward, waving his arms at Coco. “Calm your little hairs, Coco! Stop being such a jealous plant! What’d I say about yappin’ about confidential shit, huh? Now, go to the corner and have a timeout and reflect on your actions! I’ll come back later and feed you those special fly biscuits, okay?”

Coco immediately deflates and drops her head. Her bloodlust dwindles down to a state of bashfulness. “Okay…”

Mark is stunned as Donghyuck shoves Mark down the pathway and out of the greenhouse. He can’t believe he just narrowly escaped death by another _green_ thing. Are all green entities out there trying to rob him of his life? But Coco’s behaviour still rubbed him the wrong way. Her contradictory statements are left muddled in his brain, and once outside and away from the dangerously animate plants, Mark turns to Donghyuck. “ _Shy_ my goddamn puny ass, Donghyuck. What was _that_ all about? She’s like a plant version of Zilge! Um, no offence. Okay, but other than the fact she wanted to kill me, I’m more curious as to why me being cute and friendly is deserving of a painful death. You called her jealous too. Am I missing something here?”

Donghyuck laughs a little bit too shrill and bats a hand around. “Please. She’s just a little mercurial. All magical and deathly plants are like that. Don’t worry your lil’ pea-sized brain ‘bout it, alrighty? How ‘bout we go back now before she loses it again since you reek of humanity.”

“Hey, I almost _died_.” Mark narrows his eyes as he follows after Donghyuck who was briskly walking away. He leans forward, examining Donghyuck’s flustered expression. Mark frowns. “Um. You look a little red in the face. Are you okay?”

Donghyuck shoves Mark’s face away from his and breaks into a run. “Race you back to the quad! Whoever loses is a cantankerous vermin of the ocean!”

“That’s not _fair_ ,” Mark complains, watching Donghyuck sprint down the same trail they took earlier. Grumbling to himself, Mark follows after him, tucking the image of Donghyuck’s blushing face to the back of his mind.

 

x.

Just when Mark thinks he’s starting to get a good handle on things and everything is all sparkles and rainbows, everything also inevitably goes to shit. Why?

Because Zilge’s in his class.

Zilge is in his _fucking_ class.

Mark has never noticed because he always sits at the very front of the classroom and never looks back. He’s always an hour early, keeps to himself, and only answers the professor when nobody else seems to do so. Thus, when he comes in five minutes late after spending half an hour in the washroom because of his debilitating lactose intolerance from excessive intake of milk tea and realizes that his usual seat at the front had been taken, the only seat available was in the very back next to a tall and scary-looking green dude wearing a liquor-stained varsity jacket who sat with his legs wide open like a typical straight (not straight in this case) manly man. It’s Zilge. Fucking Zilge.

Of course, Mark panics.

Mark has a 0.05 second internal debate on whether or not he should book it out of the classroom the moment he sees the empty spot, but curse his work ethic and spotless attendance record (and the fact that he hasn’t made any friends in the class to exchange contact info for notes he missed). He forces his stiff legs to take him to the empty seat, ignoring the fact that Zilge was burning holes into the side of his face with an incredibly intense, and most likely, vindictive glare.

Mark is a dead fucking piece of meat.

He barely focuses throughout the lecture. He writes nonsense as notes and doodles teary-eyed chibi characters until his professor gives the class a ten minute break, to which Mark uses to his advantage and sprints right out of the classroom. Mark hides behind an alcove in the hallway, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans to urgently text Donghyuck.

 **You (10:34AM)**  
> DNGYCUK  
> DONGHYUCK  
> ZILGE IS IN MY LIT CLASS WHY IS A JOCK IN A LIT CLASS WHY IS HE IN MY CLASS DO ORCS TAKE NORMAL LIT CLASSES WH

 **From: DUMBASS DONGHYUCK. . . (´ｰ`* )♡ (10:34AM)**  
> WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!  
> also lmao what do u mean why there’s a jock in ur lit class he needs credits. everybody needs at least (1) normal lit class to graduate

 **You (10:35AM)**  
> I DON’T CARE  
> HE’S IN MY CLASS WHAT AM I SUPPSOEED TO DO

 **From: DUMBASS DONGHYUCK. . . (´ｰ`* )♡ (10:35AM)**  
> first of all! stop YELLING  
> second of all pfft i gotcha man where’s ur classroom

 **You (10:35AM)**  
> A304  
> Why??

 **From: DUMBASS DONGHYUCK. . . (´ｰ`* )♡ (10:36AM)**  
> sweet ! i can come pick u up then …. u know to boost our game  
> & if that fucker talks to u tell him how much u love me ok babe  
> bye

Mark stares at his phone, specifically at the word ‘babe’ but mostly in blank disbelief. He whispers to himself, “What the _fuuuck._ ”

Nine minutes go by fast and Mark finds himself sweating, yet again, in the seat beside Zilge as they wait for the professor to resume. He would tell Zilge to stop giving him the evil eye but Mark cannot find the backbone within himself to tell the guy to fuck off already. Mark turns in his seat and takes his phone out to quickly shoot another message to Donghyuck before his last minute is up.

 **You (10:43AM)**  
> I really hope the purrfessor cancels class beclaws I’m not feline up for it right meow

 **From: DUMBASS DONGHYUCK. . . (´ｰ`* )♡ (10:43AM)**  
> mark stop being a fucking furry  
> go yiff to sumbody else

Mark ends up coughing into his arm to cover up his laugh. He clears his throat and pockets his phone away, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling. Re-energized, Mark chants to himself that he can make it out alive for the next forty-five minutes. He just has to continue ignoring Ziilge, focus on note taking and before he knows it, he’ll be out of there in a flash.

And he’s succeeding so far. Once the professor lets them off, Mark is hurriedly shoving all of his books into his backpack as he prays: _please don’t talk to me, please don’t talk to me, please don’t talk to -_

“Mark, huh?”

Mark stills. He shuts his eyes with a sharp intake of breath. His heartbeat is accelerating in fear and even his knees are fucking buckling, but again: _You’re the best fake boyfriend ever in the whole world, Mark. Suck it up, pussy._

He hugs his backpack close to his chest and forces a smile up at Zilge. In a clipped voice, he replies, “Yup. That’s me, Mark. I’m Mark. My name is Mark. Donghyuck’s _faithful_ boyfriend. Yes. I didn’t know you were in my class, ha-ha. What a surprise?”

Mark restlessly taps his foot, grimacing when Zilge barks out a humourless laugh that sounds like fingers being dragged across the chalkboard. “Can’t fuckin’ believe it. There’s no way he would have chosen a fucking human. Humans are the reason why the world got fucked up in the first place, and it’s _us_ who saved it from being a shitty wasteland. I bet he’s just using you against me, ain’t he? He’s always been like that. Fucking with people’s minds and all that shit.”

Mark darts his eyes around him. Dread sinks in his stomach. He doesn’t know like where this conversation is going. “Excuse me?”

“He knows I hate humans. Who wouldn’t? Fuckin’ scum, all of you. But I bet he put you under a spell, didn’t he, for you to go along with this game? He may be sick but no human is gonna touch _my_ things.” Zilge takes a step forward, towering over Mark. “He’s just using you so why don’t you just run away, huh? Humans are all pretty good at that. Or would you rather I use force?”

Mark is stunned into silence and disbelief. Here he was, ready to flee in preparation of a fight that might have broken out because of something dumb he might have said, but no. Zilge is right in front of him blatantly talking shit about Donghyuck while being lackadaisical about it, as though he was expecting Mark to agree with him. Insulting Mark’s humanly constitution - that he can handle, but insulting _Donghyuck_? That was a low-fucking-blow.

Mark may not be inherently assertive and bold in nature, but he _will_ fight for his friends who are mistreated. Mark is flushed in the face and rigid with absolute indignation as he drops his backpack and sputters into his first words, “You - you - you absolutely putrid mega- _asshole_. No - _hey_ , keep your mouth shut when you’re talking to me.” His harsh tone makes Zilge stumble back in fleeting shock.

“Listen to me here, okay. First of all, you should go shopping because I’m, like, pretty sure they’re selling lives and you should totally go get one instead of standing here insulting _my_ boyfriend and telling _me_ what _I_ should do. Like, no? Our relationship is none of your business so you can go, like, shove your teeny, weeny football up your asshole! Second of all, my boyfriend is absolutely amazing and he’s lovely, damn smart, cute, a little bit scary, and very much _my_ boyfriend and not anything you just said about him. And what do you mean he’s yours? He’s nobody’s, you possessive objectifying turd licker! He can kick your ass to the moon any day, man! Like, what the fuck? Thirdly, _fuck_ you _and_ your superiority complex! Eat a darn pudding to put some more sweetness in that heart of yours, you bitter sublime piece of doodoo. And lastly, You've obviously mistaken me for someone who gives a damn about what you have to say. So, in my most humble honest opinion, you should spend less time at the gym and more time working on your shitty as _fuck_ personality.”

He’s out of breath by the time he finishes and steps back. He distantly notices how silent the entire classroom has gone. His professor with crazy white hair that resembles Einstein was still there, suitcase in hand and frozen in spot, while students from the next class were crowded at the sides of the room, staring at them with quizzical yet entertained looks. Mark’s face immediately heats up and he shrinks when Zilge - whom Mark had just insulted in multiple ways - looks minutes away from tearing a new asshole in Mark.

 _Oh my God,_ Mark thinks as he comes to a dreadful realization. _I’m real dead fucking meat._

“Uhhhhh - “ He picks up his backpack and slowly backs away, tripping over someone's foot that springs a barrage of apologies tumbling out of his mouth. Mark looks at Zilge and after a painfully awkward silence, he salutes. “Have a nice day?”

Mark whirls around, ready to run for his life, when he comes face to face with Donghyuck himself who’s looking at Mark with the weirdest mixed expression of disbelief, shock, and awe, and the only proper reaction Mark can manage at that very moment is to scream in his face. So he does.

And then he stumbles past him and runs out of the classroom.

 

x.

Mark is looking up the tickets on the Greyhound site and grieving over the terribly expensive prices just for bus fare that would take him out of the city. The bus ride from Arcadia all the way to Canada would take around twenty-three days, and considering the last time he went out of the city via bus and had to stop by a portable washroom with no sink, Mark _really_ doesn’t like the idea.

The next rational thing to do is to drop out of school, hide in his basement suite until he turns twenty-five, and cross his fingers and hope that Zilge forgets about the bespectacled quiet human who wears only four outfits per year that verbally decimated him in front of a crowd of students. But Mark couldn’t help it! Sure, he isn’t the best with words or people and tended to ramble as a nervous habit, and has trouble sticking up for himself most of the time, but he has no qualms about fighting for the people he cares about. Yerim once called such a trait of his both a flaw and a strength of his. Mark can see why now.

He's never imagined that his life would come to this. He blames it all on Donghyuck. His impish nature has been rubbing off on Mark.

Mark groans and covers his face. He rolls around on the enclosed grassfield by the daycare centre covered by shrubs and bushes, lamenting over his lifespan cut down by a good twenty years now that there’s going to be a human hunt for him. Too busy with his sounds of misery, he barely notices the rustling of footsteps until a shadow looms over him and Mark stops. He slowly drags his hands away from his face.

“You, my friend,” Donghyuck says with a wide grin, “are a national treasure.”

“Leave me _aloooone_ ,” Mark bemoans, rolling onto his side and burying his cheek into the crook of his arms. “I’m going to die. Like, legitimately. Why did you have to date an orc athlete? Why are jocks still booger-faced assholes? Why is this still like high school? All I wanted to do was just pass my courses and save up money so I can buy the premium edition of Han Kang’s _Human Acts_ and maybe, like, dye my hair and buy a pack of blood mints for my brother. I dunno.”

“Okay, hey now. Let’s not generalize.” Donghyuck plops down beside Mark, patting him on the shoulder. “Jeno was in the soccer team in high school and won the title of the school sweetheart, but he and I are like, pretty tight.”

“Yeah. He dresses like he’s a popular prep and you’re two absences away from getting kicked out,” Mark mumbles to himself and winces when Donghyuck smacks him on the shoulder.

“Leather is hard to pull off, asshole!” Donghyuck exclaims, tugging at his leather jacket. Mark chokes on his own spit when he startles into laughing. “And I totally did not just make that joke on purpose right now. God, you’re rubbing off of me. Stop with the puns, you nerd. Anyways. You know I heard everything, right?”

Mark looks up at him. “You did?”

“Duh. I told you I was gonna pick you up, didn’t I?” Donghyuck grins. “Honest to all of Arcadia, I never once expected in my entire life to see you go off like that on someone who can easily disassemble your entire bodily appendages. I mean, you’re so nice you can barely hurt a damn _fly_. That mouth of yours is a godsend. Now he’ll _totally_ believe that we’re legit dating!”

Mark blinks, trying not to overthink the subtext of Donghyuck’s innocent words, and he continues agonizing over his ruined life when Donghyuck pokes him in the cheek to grab his attention. There’s a gentle tilt to Donghyuck’s lips, his eyes softening around its hard edges. The shadows cast across his face illuminates the deep-set amber of his eyes. “Plus. Thanks for defending me, Mark. Zilge’s a piece of a shit but, you know, I appreciate you riskin’ your own life back there for me ‘cause he was talking shit. You didn’t have to.”

Mark abruptly springs up from his inelegant sprawl on the grass, startling Donghyuck. “What do you mean? I wanted to! You’re a really cool person, dude. A _terrible_ roommate but a cool person. It just sucks that people like him think they’re superior than others because of - I dunno, they can run with a ball and touch the line on the other side of the field. Like, yeah congratulations, prick! Like, what if I started to talk crap about his girlfriend, huh? I mean, I won’t because I’m sure Mina is like, really great, but he’s a jerk.”

Donghyuck raises his brows, a cheeky smile growing on his face. “So you meant everything you said?”

“Of course!”

“Even when you called me lovely, damn smart, and cute?”

Mark freezes. His face is so hot that if someone were to crack an egg on his face, they’d probably be able to fry it. “I - uh. Uhhhh. Yea - yeah? Yeah, I did? Yeah, I did. I did.” He scratches his cheek and looks down at his lap.

Donghyuck’s eyes are crinkling from the bright smile on his face that sends a flood of warmth rippling in Mark’s chest, pooling down to the pit of his stomach. Mark feels fuzzy all over and he’s desperately convinced that the grass he accidentally ingested a few minutes ago was beginning to take effect on his poor health. Mark has the persistent urge to defend himself, but before he can, Donghyuck abruptly tackles him back down onto the ground and wraps his arms and legs around Mark’s body. His breathing comfort is sacrificed as Donghyuck squeezes him tightly in his arms.

“Donghyuck, I will gut you if you don’t let me go right now,” Mark emptily threatens and thrashes around. He stops after feeling like a child throwing a temper tantrum. “Why are you koala hugging me, man?”

“It’s ‘cause Jaemin was right. You’re totally pocket buddy worthy. I’d give you a bunch of smooches, but you’d probably stab me with a tree branch. That’s why I’m conveying all my love for you with this snuggly hug. Open up a little more, will you?” Mark can hear the shit-eating grin in Donghyuck’s voice. “How else am I supposed to express my gratitude for your oh-so-grand knightley actions?”

“Bubble tea?” Mark tries.

“Weak. Write down a list of all your rapid-fire witty insults for me instead.” Donghyuck says. “C’mon. This is like, team bonding exercise, don’t you think? A great way to develop our synergy. So take my hugs, you fool.”

“But aren’t you upset about Zilge?” Mark frowns.

Donghyuck scoffs. “My moms didn’t raise a weak bitch. You think the words of my goblin ex can bring me down? As if! He’s got nothin’ but a jizz trailer of a brain. We’re taking him down in the InterSpecies League anyways and I can’t _wait_ to see his face.” He cackles and rubs his cheek against the top of Mark’s head because he _knows_ it annoys Mark.

Mark squirms around. “Are you always this touchy with people?”

“Sometimes.” Donghyuck pauses. His grip on Mark loosens. “If it really makes you uncomfy, I can let go right now. You can let me know honestly if something I do crosses a boundary, you know? For real. I’ll totally respect that.”

“I mean, dating you is already crossing a boundary - _ow_ , again with the violence! I’m kidding.” Mark pouts. “But it’s fine, I guess. It’s just - weird? ‘Cause just months ago I wanted to strangle you to death when you kept putting your shit all over my room, but now? We’re just fake dating each other and cuddling in public. Like, how wild is that.”

Donghyuck laughs and Mark can feel Donghyuck’s chest rumble. Donghyuck is warm all over and it’s making Mark sweat nervously like it’s a summer heat wave. But it was a nice warmth - the kind of warmth Mark would bask in like the clothes taken right out of the drying machine, draping all over him that made him feel at home. Or the kind of anticipatory warmth that arrives at the first couple of seconds on a rollercoaster with the cart going slowly up the lift hill, making Mark’s heart accelerate as he’s building up the strength to scream. But then there’s also the feeling of wondering if he can’t turn around now; if he can’t press the stop button and slide back down; if he can at least stay in this spot for a little while longer.

Mark squeezes his eyes shut. The dream of Donghyuck almost kissing him returns to haunt him behind his eyelids. But with Donghyuck laughing and embracing him, Mark thinks that he’s beginning to run out of excuses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot why i thought i'd finish this in 3 chapters hjshjhs i swear stuff is gonna happen more in the next chapters!! just wanted to establish their relationship more :'<
> 
> thank u always for reading !!!! <3


	3. you make my heart skip a beet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> donghyuck:  
> mark: djfshGAYjdhfs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so SORRY this has been left in the gutter for a while!! life happened & writer's block happened but motivation suddenly surged forward one sleepless night so!! here i am, happy that i was able to finish this babee T____T i'm still stuck in a creative funk so i probably could have done this chapter a lot better, but hopefully u pals nonetheless enjoy it! it was very self-indulgent and healing to write ;v;

Mark holds onto Yerim’s shoulders and hides behind her despite her small stature, cautiously observing his surroundings in crippling paranoia. They’re heading towards the arts building for their Non-human Folklore and Mythology class that focused on oeuvres by hybrids that presumably were the forefront to the literary canon, rather than the critically acclaimed old human authors. Mark would normally be excited, but Zilge’s unpredictable appearances is very much ruining his academic mood. Not to mention it’s been two days since Mark humiliated him in front of their class and there’s been a non-stop ominous feeling of being watched like a prey. 

“Mark, aren’t you being a bit of a wimp?” Yerim speaks up, throwing an unamused glance over her shoulder. Mark jumps and curses his innate inclination of being spooked easily. “Like, do you really think Zilge is gonna come out of the bushes and attack you in broad daylight with his goons?”

“We can’t be too careful with that guy, okay? In this day and age, people become bystanders and would rather whip out their phones to record a guy getting beat up by an orc than to help,” Mark hisses. He shrieks and ducks behind Yerim when a werecat on a unicycle rushes past them. Mark peeks over her shoulder and lets out a relieved sigh. It’s just a werecat. Werecats are cute. Mark definitely likes them.

Yerim rolls her eyes and studies her acrylic nails. There are strands of rainbow glitter and rhinestones in her brown hair that reflected against the glaring sunlight, blinding Mark for a moment. “You sure do cuss like a sailor but act like a tomcat. And don’t hold onto my shoulders so tightly. You’re wrinkling my shirt that costs more than your _tuition_.”

Mark frowns and loosens his grip, watching as Yerim fixes her floral print blouse tucked neatly into her peach dirndl skirt. “I’m your _friend_. Pay attention to me and my safety. Aren’t you worried that I’m going to get bludgeoned to death any minute now?”

“Who says you’re gonna die when _I’m_ here?” Yerim narrows her eyes. An aura of complete ruthlessness exudes from her petite figure. “I’d like to see them try and beat a siren. I’ll rip them to shreds with my teeth if they come near us and I’m gonna beat the lot of them into a pulp that they won’t be able to open their eyes and see daylight!”

Mark wrinkles his nose at the graphic imagery but goes ahead and squeezes Yerim’s biceps. Mark lets out a sound of awe at the revelation and Yerim smugly flexes her arms. “Dude, your muscles are awesome. I bet you can carry a titan with those arms. But are sirens usually this violent? Can’t you just, like, sing them to sleep?”

“Why do I need to sing when I can use brute force? Besides, our voices are sacred and deadly, Mark. We can’t use them for trivial shit. I’ll get in trouble with my elders if they found out, even though they live on uncharted islands. They’d probably cancel my credit cards.”

“Huh. Valid.” Mark tilts his head. “But don’t you think that having blood on your very expensive shirt isn’t really glamorous?” 

“Ever heard of beauty, brains, _and_ brawns?” Yerim huffs and flicks her hair over her shoulder. “Anyways, let’s focus back on the task at hand, okay? I see your boyfriend eating portable Prophecy O’s.” 

“What?” Mark turns his head around so fast he almost gets whiplash. There Donghyuck is, chasing after his cereal with a spoon in a plastic bowl while walking towards one of the older botany buildings. For some reason, his heart starts to pump a lot faster than before. He mumbled absentmindedly, “I think I’m dying.”

Yerim sends him a concerned look. Then something catches her attention and she tugs at his jacket, jerking her head to the opposite side of where Donghyuck was walking. “Oh, and there’s your terminator with a personal vendetta against you. I guess they really would come and try to beat your ass in broad daylight.” 

Mark follows her gaze and dread immediately permeates his entire system. Zilge was walking towards them with a murderous expression - a face that someone at the very top of the social hierarchy would don after being mortified in public by a _human_ \- along with his teammates of various dispositions and sizes trailing right behind. There’s a reason why Mark dislikes beefy athletes and the discrepancy of strength is one of them. Compared to them, Mark’s arms were like fucking udon noodles. 

“So. Which one do you want me to beat up first?” Yerim whispers as she rolls up her sleeves. “The queen bee or that one dude who’s built like a Capri Sun?”

“Um. Let’s not resort to violence yet?” Mark is sweating. “Why don’t we just, uh, go to Donghyuck? And pretend we didn’t see them? Then maybe they’ll leave us alone?”

“Mark, you’re literally looking right at them. You had _eye_ contact.”

Mark ignores Yerim and briskly drags her away to catch up with Donghyuck. With his brain in overload mode, its executive function compels Mark to glance over his shoulder out of anticipation, but as soon as he sees Zilge bulldozing straight after them, Mark panics. And when he panics, he sweats and doesn’t use his brain like a beefy athlete. Yerim is yelling questions in his right ear and his impending death is ringing in his left; he catches up to Donghyuck and finds himself screaming at him in a growing crescendo.

Donghyuck whirls around, his eyes widening at the sight of Mark steamrolling towards him with Yerim in tow. His eyes frantically dart between Mark and his cereal, and while Mark seems dangerously intent on not slowing down any second now, Donghyuck tosses his unfinished cereal to the side at the very last minute before Mark barrels into him with open arms. 

And down to the ground they go with a shout. Mark’s hand was crushed between pillowing Donghyuck’s head and the pavement ground when he fell on top of him, and all he can do is bury his face into Donghyuck’s shoulder as he prays that Zilge would leave them alone for the time being. He hears Yerim stomp her foot and shout, “What’re you looking at, you punks? Can’t you tell they’re busy being in love? If you got a problem with public displays of affection, I can do the same and cut off your balls right here and now, and shove them in your mouth!”

Mark hears feet hurriedly shuffling past them at the threats aimed at their manhood. Mark peeks and notices Zilge receding from his sight as he and his goons escape far into campus. Mark lets out a relieved sigh. Death: 0, Mark: 3. 

When Mark shifts his weight, he realizes that he was still squashing Donghyuck when he groans in pain. Mark yelps and immediately scrambles off of him. “Holy shit, Donghyuck! Are you okay? I am so sorry, oh my God. Do you - do you have a concussion? Is a bone broken? Are your teeth intact? Do you still understand the concept of common sense?”

“I feel like I’ve been put into a meat grinder,” Donghyuck grunts as he sits up and rubs his back. His hair is dishevelled and his face is unusually red. “Mark, look. Great job for making Zilge ultra jealous, like, I goddamn applaud you. _And_ I understand that I’m irresistible, but did you _really_ have to tackle me down like that? I think you just rearranged my internal organs. You owe me another bowl of Prophecy O’s.” 

“I’m sorry, I just - I just panicked because I saw Zilge and like, I didn’t wanna fight even though Yerim would have kicked their asses, so I thought if they saw us being busy as a couple, they’d leave us alone? I mean, the plan worked even though Zilge’s probably gonna come for my ass later, but - “ Mark scratches his head in a speechless fit before throwing his hands up in the air, shrugging helplessly. Then he deflates. “Sorry.” 

Donghyuck raises a brow at him in quiet observation. Then he sighs and extends a hand. “You’re such a big puppy, Mark. C’mon and help me up, already.” 

Perking up, Mark eagerly grabs Donghyuck’s hand and lifts him up. He even dusts off Donghyuck’s clothes, making sure that there was no blood to be seen. Donghyuck swats him away, flustered, and when Mark goes to stand beside Yerim again, she was wiggling her eyebrows at him with a puckish smile. Mark jabs her in the side with an elbow in embarrassment.

“Well, here I was, ready to beat a couple of jocks up. Got me hyped up for nothing.” Yerim tugs her sleeves back down in disappointment before shaking Donghyuck’s hand. Donghyuck barely holds back a grimace and Mark can understand why. Yerim’s got a firm, strong grip - an intimidation tactic she likes to use on a daily basis that she’s picked up on from her lineage of feathery politicians. “I don’t think we’ve ever met in the flesh, but I’ve heard all about you, Donghyuck. I’m Yerim, a siren.”

Donghyuck beams despite having his hand crushed. “Are we talking about actual sirens or wannabe sirens who are just mermaids?”

“Of course we’re talking about the actual sirens! My ancestors are all purebreds.” Yerim juts her chin out haughtily. Mark was beginning to see a behavioural resemblance between the two. “The ocean’s just oil and dead marine life, taking mermaids with it.” 

Mark finds that terribly alarming and quickly jumps in. “Put aside your petty grudge against mermaids and save the ocean, you bird. Anyways, Donghyuck. Um. I guess Yerim and I will just be, uh. Heading to class now? If, you know, there’s nothing - I mean, I’ll buy you another bowl of cereal some other time and - “

“Whoa, hey.” Donghyuck catches Mark’s hand in his, and Mark pales. He sweats even more. His heart is palpitating, his hand twinges with pain for some inexplicable reason, his sense of focus is zeroed in on how Donghyuck’s hand was so warm and so _soft_ , Yerim is bouncing with restrained excitement as she darts her eyes between the two, and Mark is starting to think that there’s something _very_ wrong with his heart. “Dude, you’re bleeding.”

Mark blinks. He looks down at this hand and finds the source of the pain from his scraped, bloody knuckles. Indeed he was. “Oh.” 

“I can lick ‘em clean if you want,” Yerim suggests. 

Donghyuck immediately tugs Mark’s hand away from her, twisting his face into that of repulsion. “That’s unsanitary. And kinda gross. We should go to the infirmary and get them cleaned up. Health is important, Mark. You can’t just go wrestling people down onto the ground like you’re part of the WWE.”

Mark doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the reversion of roles. Usually Mark is the one nagging Donghyuck. Though it’s a good idea to agree to go to the infirmary, he doesn’t want to skip class either. 

“Go on ahead, Mark,” Yerim speaks up, patting him on the back as though she’s read his mind. “I’ll go to class and send you my notes.”

“But your notes are shitty.” 

“Well suck it up, buttercup.” Yerim nudges Mark forward towards Donghyuck and grins knowingly up at him. Mark is this close to squeezing a whole bottle of mayonnaise into her jar of jojoba oil moisturizer. “See ya later. It was nice to meet you too, Donghyuck!”

Donghyuck waves with reciprocal enthusiasm. Mark fidgets beside him, hyper fixated on the fact that Donghyuck was still holding his injured hand. Oh, God. Mark feels like he’s been reduced to some prepubescent high school kid who has no idea how to act around a hot classmate. Mark is older, therefore he should carry at least some branch of dignity. But no. Instead, he feels like he’s about to combust in the presence of a hedgewitch who likes to domesticate man-eating plants and cast hexes on foes that probably just stepped on his big toe by accident. So why is Mark associating fondness with Donghyuck when it should be complete aggravation? 

Donghyuck was growing on him, wasn’t it? 

“ _Ya, no shit Sherlock_ ,” he can hear Lucas’ voice echo in the back of his head and Mark aggressively shakes his head. If anything, Donghyuck was growing on him like _mold_ \- like a terrible, festering rash on his right arm. Mark doesn’t like Donghyuck at all! Nada, zilch, zero. Nope. No way is Mark going to admit that.

“Admit what?” Donghyuck asks quizzically.

Shit. Mark said that out loud. “Nothing. Nothing! Just, uh. Doing my whole internal monologue and schmick.” 

“Weirdo.” Donghyuck eyes him warily before tugging him towards the direction of where the infirmary is located at. “Well, come on. Let’s get you patched up first.”

x

The first thing Mark sees at the infirmary are two people with the same face and the same - well, _everything_.

Mark can’t tell if it’s due to his miniscule blood loss that he’s seeing things because Donghyuck doesn’t seem disoriented by the sight of two identical persons, or maybe it’s still due to the heat of Donghyuck’s hand that’s shooting a bunch of neurons into his brain, agitating him to hell. Mark watches as one of them beams and greets them with outstretched arms, and that zealous show of friendliness can only be a sign of madness in the name of science. He’s suddenly a little scared to be surrounded by a bunch of medical instruments and drugs in such a pristine and sterilized white place with happy-looking workers. 

“Hey guys,” the friendly one says with a comically lowered voice. “I’m Kun.”

“No you’re not,” the other grumpy-looking one says, smacking his identical twin on the arm. “ _I’m_ Kun and I don’t sound like that! You’re a piece of annoying shit. Change back!” 

“No, _he’s_ the one impersonating me!” The friendly one exclaims, yelping when his twin begins to chase him around the infirmary, circling through the aisles of the beds and around. 

Mark blinks. He turns to Donghyuck. “Should we come back?”

“Nah. This shit happens all the time.” Donghyuck snorts, waving the matter away. “C’mon, I can do it.”

Donghyuck seats Mark on a bed before going away to rummage through the cabinets for the bandages. He disappears into one of the doors, hearing the faint sound of running water and a metallic clack afterwards. From how Donghyuck moves so familiarly as though he knows where is what, Mark wonders how much time Donghyuck had spent in the infirmary. 

Donghyuck returns with a bottle of antiseptic, cotton pads, and a stash of teddy bear bandages. Mark tries to maintain a straight, cool face when Donghyuck cleans his injuries, because he isn’t a pussy. 

“So, I guess Zilge’s forming a hunting party for you on campus grounds, now,” Donghyuck says nonchalantly. “How does it feel to be the center of attention?”

“Absolutely disgusting,” is Mark’s immediate reply. 

Donghyuck chuckles and plasters a teddy bear bandage over the wounds. Then unexpectedly enough, he brings Mark’s hand up to his lips and gives his knuckles a quick peck. “Begone, booboo!” 

Mark stares. Then he stares at his hand. Then he stares back at Donghyuck. He stares until he’s certain his face has imploded into the colour of a saturated beet. Donghyuck doesn’t seem to care, though, as he gathers all the equipment and puts them back where they came from while throwing the trash away. As he goes to wash his hands, Kun - thankfully, just _one_ of him - approaches him with a thoughtful look while cradling a familiar, fluffy fox in his arms.

“You two act like lovebirds so much to the point that I forget this whole dating thing is fake,” Yangyang says with an innocuous blink, “I wouldn’t mind if it _is_ real because you a tore a new breathing hole in that stupid orc’s face. You’re a superstar, Mark. A superhuman. I’ll take care of your grave when you die, don’t worry.”

“All of you are going to kill me one day. I swear to God,” Kun mutters to himself before he sends Mark a bright smile. “I’ve heard all about you, Mark. If you ever need a safe haven to hide from Donghyuck’s murderous ex-boyfriend, feel free to come here. I could use the company.”

“He’s just baiting you into being his guinea pig for new remedies. Don’t do it,” Yangyang whispers. “Archangels are evil scientists.”

Kun chastises the fox spirit. Mark groans into his hands. Not only was there a bounty over his head established by a bunch of raging orcs, but there were also his neglected academic responsibilities, the prospect of his brother visiting with his boyfriend who was kept enigmatic to maintain the element of surprise, and the spiraling possibility that his heart was betraying him with budding feelings that existed outside of the friendship realm. For Donghyuck. 

And Mark could only condense all of his crises into one exact word: _Fuck._

x

After what happened with Zilge, Mark starts to doubt whether or not their fake relationship was working considering how indifferent he’s acting. Sure, Zilge wants to rip him apart, but that’s mainly due to his superiority complex and inferiority issues. Plus, all he receives from Zilge is a stinky glare whenever Donghyuck comes to pick him up from English Literature to ensure Mark’s protection. (Mark has to check at every corner he turns to make sure no leather-clad possible orc gang is waiting for him with a club.)

So, feeling a little hopeless, Mark decides to tell Yukhei about his doubts the next day. 

Yukhei blinks at him with a breakfast burrito brimming with fried fish halfway into his mouth. “You serious?”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be serious? This is a serious concern!” 

Yukhei scratches his nose in thought before his lips upturn into a mischievous smile. He places a greasy hand over Mark’s hand. “Oh, bro. Have I got a surprise for you.” 

Mark has no idea what Yukhei is talking about until he suddenly finds himself dragged into an empty classroom and pushed down into a single chair that was situated in the center of the room, while Yukhei was pushing all the long tables to the side with a cacophonous screech. The door bangs open and Mark jumps in his seat. 

Throwing a look over his shoulder, Mark watches on with utmost confusion as Renjun marches in wearing a black beret, a fake monocle and has a pointer in his hands, followed after by Jaemin who looked as though he would rather be anywhere but here. Jeno excitedly hops over to the podium to set up the computer while Renjun drags a chair to the front of the room, hikes his foot on top of it, and pulls down the projector screen. The lights dim, Jeno slams down a button, a presentation slide pops up on the projector screen, and Renjun whacks the screen with the pointer.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between!” Renjun announces. “Welcome to our mini 101 info session on our mutual enemy, Zilge.” 

Jaemin lies down on a table and puts an arm over his eyes. Jeno is enthusiastically clapping. Yukhei cheers and hoots. Mark is reading the first slide’s title: **Why Zilge Is A Snake And Will Fall For Donghyuck’s Revenge Plan Like The Dumb Asshole He Is At The Interspecies League Guaranteed By Yours Truly, The Flocking Fabulous.**

“How’d you guys even find an empty classroom?” Mark asks, quizzical. 

“Yukhei has connections,” Jeno whisper-yells. 

“No he doesn’t,” Jaemin whisper-yells back. He muffles a laugh as Yukhei launches the remote control of the projector at him.

Renjun clears his throat and clasps his hands. He looks surprisignly lively. “So, Mark. I heard from a friend of mine that you’re casting doubts about Donghyuck’s plan. Of course, that’s understandable. Who wouldn’t? That’s why I stayed up all night making this presentation all for your viewing pleasure and understanding so you _better_ be paying attention.” 

The slide changes. Mark is looking at a graph. The red line has been scribbled beyond the graph. He has no idea what the graph is about. Renjun points at it and speaks with a monotone voice. “This, Mark, is the statistical possibility of Zilge falling for the plan. You see this? It’s high. Very high. Very likely. In other words, one-hundred-fucking-percent. And I have proof.” 

The slide changes again and a picture of Zilge hugging a blue person pops up. Mark squints. _A smurf?_ “This was his first boyfriend back when he was a freshman. Cute, right? He broke up with him when he met another guy at a party one month later. And once his ex moved on, you know what he did?”

Renjun extends his pointer stick and stabs it at Zilge’s green face, going on and on about his homewrecking streak. A pattern becomes absolutely clear in Zilge’s terribly long dating history - longer than Mark’s lifespan, at this point. Zilge always tries to win his ex back after they’ve moved on after presenting a pretense of indifference, which is already shady enough, and his ex would accept because they - and Mark quotes from Renjun - “couldn’t resist his diabolical charm.” Mark cringes at such a cheesy description.

With a dramatic turn that’s rather comical in contrast to his flat voice, Renjun sweeps his arm across the air and says, “Therefore, we can all confirm that Zilge is one sinful son of a leper’s donkey wanting to establish power and dominance by doing whatever he wants, getting whatever he wants, and holds himself to such a high regard that he likes people pining after him and does not like people moving on from him because it hurts his wittle little ego. So, in conclusion, he’s a fucking narcissist and once Donghyuck exposes his ass, Zilge will lose all credibility among his peers. Thank you for coming to my talk.” 

The slide switches to another slide full of credits with only Renjun’s name in them. Renjun bows and Yukhei leaps up from the seat he had taken, cheering as he fervently claps. Yukhei goes over to bring Renjun into a bro-hug. They slap each other’s backs with Yukhei narrowly missing Renjun's wings. It was very entertaining. 

Jaemin is sprawled over the table like a starfish, waving his wand around to conjure relatively non-hazardous fireworks to explode in the air. Then he rolls off the table to approach Renjun, using the stick to pat him on the head. Renjun gives him a private, fond smile. Meanwhile, Jeno looks happy and attempts to gloat at how he was the one who came up with the idea in the first place. 

“That’s - wow. That’s, uh. That was very informative. No, seriously,” Mark insists when he sees Renjun roll his eyes. “Dude, I can’t believe you made an entire PowerPoint presentation about this. How'd you even find the time?” 

“I don't. I sabotaged my GPA for this.” 

“He was up all night laughing to himself,” Jaemin gripes. “Do you see what love does to you?” 

Jeno happily nuzzles his nose into Yukhei’s neck and Jaemin looks like he wants to retch. “You are the right soul in the revenge plan, Mark. This presentation is the least we can do when you’ve become a death magnet after destroying Zilge’s dignity in public. I assure you that I will escort your soul into the nicer planes of the afterlife. There’s grapes _and_ snakes.”

“Sounds like my kind of party,” Yukhei says as he presses his lips to Jeno’s forehead. Then he approaches Mark and digs into his shoulders with his fingers that causes Mark to jerk around like an electric shock had direly impeded him. “Now that we’ve brought this up - you see, Mark? I always knew you had it in you to be an asshole! I taught you well.” 

“Well I couldn’t just stand there and listen to him talk badly about Hyuck when he doesn’t even _know_ him,” Mark complains, shoving at Yukhei’s arm.

Everyone perks up. Jaemin raises his brows, Renjun blinks, and Jeno looks over Mark with an open-mouthed smile. They’re all staring at him until Renjun finally asks, “Does that mean _you_ know him?”

“Uh? Well, not really? I mean, I know him better than Zilge. I think?” Mark squirms underneath the limelight. He starts to nervously babble, “Like, I know he’s really clingy and he slobbers all over you but that’s his way of annoying you _and_ being affectionate because he likes to make people feel appreciated and _I_ feel appreciated whenever he does - he’s just super thoughtful like that. Sometimes I get annoyed with it because I like my personal space but I like his hugs and his hands and okay, maybe _sometimes_ when he tries to kiss me, because he’s really warm and soft even though he looks like he can chop off my fingers and feed them to the sharks or something.” His shrug falls flat. “I dunno.” 

They all exchange a furtive glance. Jaemin scratches his cheek with his heart-shaped wand that Mark is starting to think is merely for decoration, before his face takes on a more wondrous, hopeful glow. “Maybe love _does_ exist after all. Mark, you have opened my eyes and broadened my horizons! If Donghyuck doesn’t take your hand in marriage right at this moment, perhaps I will.” Then he deflates. “Oh, but marriage. Marriage is but a complete hoax.” 

Mark looks at him, too bewildered to speak, before he turns to others.

“Oh, God,” Renjun mumbles as he takes off his gaudy costume, his wings fluttering that made the faerie dust scatter across the floor in sparkling piles. “I hate drama. There better not be drama when shit hits the feelings fan.”

Jeno exclaims in triumph, “I _knew_ I smelled the compatibility between their souls! And everyone thinks I’m just a mindless, ravenous soul eater when I do more than eat them.”

Yukhei pats Mark on the head. “You’re oblivious but I love you, bro.”

“I don’t understand.” Mark frowns. 

“You will soon, my dear homie.”

Mark watches all of them file out of the classroom in high spirits, leaving him to bask in his own confusion and denial. He has no idea what just happened, but the presentation _did_ manage to assuage his fears and doubts. At least that’s over with.

x

Over the next few weeks, they all met up to prepare for the grand finale of their revenge that would take place during the Interspecies League. Mark had brought his homework with him to the meetings in order to catch up on his assignments, resulting in zero digestion of the information Donghyuck had torrented. But the main important thing was that everyone else knew what to do. All Mark had to do at the game was just sit there and wait for the plan to commence on Donghyuck’s signal.

Time passes by relatively fast when self-preservation kicks in. Avoiding Zilge kept Mark on his toes and battling conflicted feelings for his roommate who was once a frenemy takes a lot of mental energy out of him. And if Donghyuck noticed how jittery and odd Mark has been behaving in his company, he doesn’t make a comment about it all. Mark isn’t sure on what to do. He just hopes that once this fake relationship ends, the both of them can continue on their separate lives and this inexplicable, tender warmth building up in Mark’s chest will disappear too. 

The night before the start of the Interspecies League, which was Arcadia’s first game against a rival university, Mark finds himself microsleeping through his exhausting attempt to stay awake to finish up his comparison paper between famous minimalist authors. He was in his room, hands flying across the keyboard as he was nodding off to another nap, when he jolts awake at the sound of his door being thrown open.

“Mark!” Donghyuck exclaims with a wild look in his eyes, his hair mussed and clothes dishevelled. He had his laptop tucked underneath an arm while balancing a pile of thick books atop his palm. “I need to study. Let me study in your room.” 

“Oh, that’s not happening. Get out.”

“Don’t be mean! I can’t study for shit in my room because my new subject is a little moody.” Donghyuck pouts as he shuts the door and makes himself comfortable on the floor. He settles his things down and stretches his limbs. “Parasitic trees can be such dickheads sometimes. I wish they learned how to keep their venom sap inside. What are they? Feral animals?”

Mark heaves out a deep sigh. It’s gonna be a long night.

Surprisingly, Donghyuck was a quiet studier. He shifts around and pops his stiff bones back into place, but otherwise concentrates on his work instead of annoying Mark. Mark gets through his paper and is typing up his bibliography by the time he realizes that Donghyuck was sitting on one of the cushioned chairs upside down with one of his thick volumes in hand. Watching him read in such a manner like he was hanging off a monkey bar with his legs made Mark nauseous. 

And then suddenly, they were lying side by side on the floor, staring up at the ceiling in companionable silence. Mark feel his eyes drooping and body shutting down, but then he flinches awake when he dreams of falling down for a fleeting moment. His brain was back in overload mode. Sometimes, exhaustion wasn’t enough to make him fall asleep when his brain continues to churn and spit out answers. It’s nights like these that he wishes he can ingest an unholy amount of caffeine.

“Why can’t you have caffeine?” Donghyuck finally breaks the silence, sending him an inquisitive look. Mark seriously needs to stop unconsciously voicing his thoughts out loud.

“The same reason I don’t drink,” Mark mumbled.

“The straight-edge lifestyle?” 

“I wish.” Mark rolls his eyes. “It’s meds.”

Donghyuck nods. He looks back up at the ceiling with a sigh. “I’m wrung out from studying but I’m wide awake for some reason.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

Donghyuck sighs. He launches off into a quiet recollection of the plan and goes over the details; he’s mostly talking to himself but Mark listens anyways. Donghyuck’s voice is nice to listen to - dulcet tones with a smooth edge to it. It would have lulled Mark to sleep if Donghyuck didn’t turn around and throw his arm over Mark, smacking him on the chin in the process.

“Tell me something interesting, Mark. Your secrets, your fears - anything.” 

Mark shoves his arm off. “What is this? A heart to heart talk?”

“It’s one in the morning. Don’t you think it’s warranted after midnight?”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Something honest.” Donghyuck hums.

Mark takes in a deep breath. There’s not much to talk about. He’s got no sob story, no traumatic background. He’s as mundane as it gets. But he supposes it’s fatigue and sleep deprivation that nudges him to forgo all inhibitions and hesitation in front of Donghyuck, and says, “I don’t know what I’m doing here sometimes.

“I’m nothing special. Like, my grades aren’t phenomenal, I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to grab a well-paying job with an English Literature degree, and honestly?” Mark laughs a bit self-deprecatingly. “I don’t even know what I want to do or where I want to go. And it sucks. It feels like I’m just wasting everything away. The car, this basement, my school tuition - my dad’s helping me pay for it. And what do I do in return? Nothing. I just sit here and feel sorry for myself, thinking that being human is the cause of my insecurity when really, it’s nothing but _me_.”

Mark nibbles on his bottom lip. He shrugs, feeling awkward from talking about himself in such a vulnerable way. Donghyuck doesn’t say anything. He merely turns on his back again and looks up at the ceiling, blinking slowly as though he was thinking in the same pace too. 

“I fall too easily.”

Mark blinks at him. “I think I’m clumsier than you are.”

“Geez, Mark. I didn’t mean _literally_.” Donghyuck lightly punches him in the shoulder. “I mean I fall in _love_ too easily, you dummy.”

“Oooooh. Oh.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes in a fond manner. There’s a beat of silence again. Mark plays with his collar before Donghyuck continues on in a quiet voice, “Probably why everyone I’m with gets sick of me fast. It’s ‘cause I latch on too tightly when the relationship starts. I don’t know. I’m either too little or too much for them - always rough around the edges, never whole enough. And I start to wonder what it is about me that repels them, if I’m really just so crooked that I’m never wanted.”

Mark stares at Donghyuck’s profile, at the way his eyes are bright with melancholy in the dim lighting of his bedroom and a certain wistfulness taking over the soft lines of his face. Mark thinks about the passion embedded in Donghyuck’s broad smiles as he talks about his plants, about nature, about the things at the center of his magical world. Mark isn’t aware of the words leaving his mouth until Donghyuck turns to look at him.

“I think they’re stupid,” Mark blurts out. “They’re stupid to leave you if they can’t even see how - how _incredible_ you are. They’re stupid for giving you false hope, for not even bothering to communicate with you, for not committing. They’re stupid for just being _stupid_. Hyuck, I promise that one day, someone _will_ accept all parts of you no matter how bent or crooked or incomplete you think you are. All your asshole exes are first-rate festering dicksores that deserve to be dressed up as pieces of lettuce so they can get eaten by snails.”

Donghyuck has his eyes wide, his brows raised that denoted surprise. But a pleasant kind of surprise, because the melancholic sheen is no longer there, replaced by a glimmer of amusement. “You really need to share that rolodex of hate with me. Your brain works in superb ways, you know that?”

“I’m high off sleep deprivation. What do you think?”

Donghyuck snorts. His smile softens, or maybe it’s because he’s just too tired to broaden it. Either way, it does a lot of things to Mark’s heart and he has to hold his breath to get rid of the symptom. “You know, I think you’re special. You have a certain courage that not many humans have. And you’re fully capable of many things, Mark. If I was your dad, I’d be proud. No one said university and growing up would be easy.” 

Mark swallows hard, willing his stomach to stop turning. “Thanks, Donghyuck.”

He listens to Donghyuck hum until he falls silent again. He listens to Donghyuck’s steady breaths and watches the rise and fall of his chest. And when Mark leans over him, he realizes that Donghyuck has fallen asleep. Mark lies back down. Their shoulders touch and Donghyuck is warm, warm, _warm_. 

He wonders if he would later on regret this conversation when he knew in hindsight it would only make him fall deeper. But Mark’s never paid much attention to warning signs anyway.

x

Football games. Lots of thickly padded creatures that looked like snowmen marching across the field, lots of testosterone, and lots of screaming and yelling and diehard fans in the bleachers. Mark is suffering.

They’ve woken up in the morning with a clear agreement to _never_ do that heart-to-heart talk ever again. And throughout the entire day, Mark has been non-stop nervous and agitated. He doesn’t know what to expect at such a crowded public game. They were going to broadcast their fake relationship to the entire school, and it was going to warrant Mark an incoming assassination by Zilge. Well, maybe not an assassination considering Zilge’s too clunky and obnoxious to be stealthy, but there _will_ be death. 

Mark’s inhaled most of the popcorn by the time the others show up. Donghyuck was too busy texting, tongue darting out to lick his lips in deep concentration. Yukhei greets Mark with a clap on the back, Jeno manages to land a kiss on Mark’s cheek despite doing absolutely everything in his power to avoid it, and Jaemin looks like he’s three minutes away from cursing everyone to an eternity of loveless lives if they didn’t stop shouting. 

“Where’s Renjun? And Yangyang?” Mark asks, puzzled at their absences.

“Weren’t you paying attention?” Jeno asks. “They’re on standby.”

“Standby?”

“I’m texting them. Yangyang’s trying to gauge the security guard’s mannerisms to impersonate him,” Donghyuck supplies. “As soon as Yangyang shapeshifts into the guard, Renjun is going to knock the actual guard out cold.”

“Uh. No offence, but he doesn’t look very strong,” Mark says.

“We’re not talking about physically knocking them out.” Yukhei shudders. “I’ve seen what faerie dust does. You snort a line of it and you fall asleep _instantly_. It’s like Nyquil but like, ten times more effective and sparkly.”

“Magical cocaine,” Jaemin says.

Jesus. “That’s terrible to know.” 

Jeno waves a hand at them. “Hey, it’s starting! Gosh, do all those souls look delicious.”

Ignoring Yukhei’s scandalized expression, Mark watches with eager anxiety as the marching band initiates the introduction of teams through different theme songs. His legs are jelly when he stands up for the national anthem, and when the game officially starts with the Arcadia Sprites leading the kickoff, Mark watches with complete confusion. He doesn’t know a single shit about football so all he can understand by the diverse team of creatures getting tackled down to the ground for having possession of the ball was that the ball was important. 

Balls. Fighting. Violent. Got it. 

Mark winces when he watches a werewolf literally bulldoze into Zilge. As the referee blows their whistle, the buzzer sounds and he realizes that it was already the end of the first quarter.

“What are we even planning anyways?” Mark leans close to Donghyuck. “I still don’t know what we’re doing.”

Donghyuck glances up at him. His lips pull into an easy, mischievous smile. “Eat a mint, will you?”

HIs cryptic remark made as much sense as tits on a bull. Mark makes a sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

The second quarter starts. Mark says goodbye to his friends, his family, and tries not to imagine how his mother was probably rolling around in her grave if she knew about the theatrics of his farewells. If he could, he’d forfeit all mortal possessions in order to live a long life away from jealous orc boyfriends. Maybe he can live in a quaint little cottage in the woods and befriend a dwarf and tend to his friendly garden. 

Donghyuck rapidly taps on his phone. His face lights up as he quickly smacks their shoulders to get their attention, and as soon as he does, he holds up his phone with a victorious grin. “We’re in, folks.”

While everyone cheers, Mark looks at them like a lost puppy. “What? What? In what?”

“Yangyang got into the entertainment office that has controls over the jumbotron and every other big ass screen. Renjun made the guards fall asleep and now they’re posing as the security guards ready to fuck shit up,” Donghyuck relays the information. His grin widens when the buzzer sounds, signaling halftime. “Time to get the show on the road.”

Jaemin sighs and gets up from his seat. He readies his stick by pointing it upwards. Jeno and Yukhei acted as the instigators, apparently, because they’re suddenly yelling out to the crowd, “Kisscam! Kisscam!”

Mark sputters out, “Kiss _what_?”

As if on cue, the screen of the jumbotron flashes open. It pans to a variety of different fans, all either painted in school colours or looking boredly into the distance, and Mark watches with dread bubbling in the pit of his stomach as the screen suddenly flickers to the visual of him and _Donghyuck_ together within a frame decorated by a bunch of hearts. Everybody roars and starts to chant at them to kiss, kiss, _kiss_ , and Mark is ready to just about die. 

This was beyond conspicuous. This was fucking outlandish and everything that Mark never expected to happen. His breath catches in his chest when Donghyuck grabs his face. “Mark, I will do your laundry for the entire year if you pretend to like this, okay? Quiche?”

“Um. Isn’t it capiche - “

When Donghyuck kisses him, everything turns to white noise. He’s shocked to the tips of his toes and he digs his heels into the ground to keep himself from toppling over. All he can focus on is the warmth of Donghyuck’s lips against his and the heat rushing throughout his entire body. His skin feels too hot. Something untangles in his chest and Mark is rendered immobile.

And when Donghyuck pulls away, everything comes rushing back - the cacophony, the icky residue of sweat and body heat from the crowds, and the sudden emptiness of where Donghyuck’s lips had been. Jaemin had used his magic to spell out ‘EAT SHIT, ZILGE’ in pink, sparkly bubble letters in the air, adorned with colourful fireworks and confetti. Mark stares and stares and doesn’t quite breathe until Donghyuck dives forward and catches the football that had been hurtling towards Mark’s face. 

Mark hears Yukhei shouting profanity. Jeno was threatening to devour souls and condemn somebody to the inferno. Donghyuck was moving his mouth, asking Mark if he was okay. Okay? Mark doesn’t feel okay. He feels light and heavy, hot and cold at the same time. His lips are tingling. The world is a jumble of blurry figures and gaudy colours. His face is on fire and Donghyuck looks relatively tame considering that Mark was currently malfunctioning due to excessive levels of _gay_. Why? Because Donghyuck just kissed him.

 _Oh my God_ , Mark manages to think in the midst of his turmoil, _he just kissed me_.

Donghyuck kissed him. 

Holy shit.

“Mark, helloooo,” Donghyuck calls, waving a hand at him. “Zilge almost pummeled your face with the football. Are you okay? You should say something before Yukhei starts throwing hands. Look, it’s playing the presentation now!” 

Mark doesn’t look, but hears elevator music blasting through the speakers as the crowd hawkishly watches the large jumbotron. He hears boo-ing and a clamorous amount of shit talking, and while everybody else takes pleasure in the downfall of Zilge, Mark doesn’t know what to think. Even his imminent death looming over his head isn’t enough to deter him from this daze. All he knows is that he wants to kiss Donghyuck again. 

So he does.

Mark grabs Donghyuck by the back of his head and brings their mouths together in an unruly crash, born from an impulsive urge to recreate that same warmth again. He can tell Donghyuck was shocked because he doesn’t reciprocate at first, but then he does, and Mark _likes_ it. Mark doesn’t know how to contain this sudden revelation without baring himself open to the whole world. 

The whole world. Mark feel his stomach bottom out. _The whole world_. He suddenly remembers where they are and he recoils back so fast that he slams into the body next to him. He covers his mouth with an arm. They’re in public. This was just for a show - a retaliation against Zilge. Mark was nothing but a background prop, an accessory to this whole vindictive plan, and he was stupid enough to have ever wanted more out of something that never existed in the first place.

“Sorry,” is all Mark manages to stammer out. And then he’s standing up and running out of the bleachers, crushing feet in a clumsy attempt to escape. 

He hears voices behind him, an angrier shout from Zilge who’s being refrained by his teammates, and Mark feels the blood rush to his ears as his heart yanks in and out of his chest. 

This was a bad idea. Donghyuck was the worst idea.

x

Because Mark was a drama queen, he avoids all contact with Donghyuck and Donghyuck’s friends in order to recollect himself. And also because he was embarrassed as fuck.

Technically, Yukhei is Mark’s best friend, but Yukhei is also dumbstruck and lovestruck with Jeno, and Yukhei does anything in the name of love. He can’t face him when Mark remembers that he literally swapped spit with Donghyuck in a stadium full of football junkies. 

So, Mark stays with Yerim for a while. She offers her lap for him to rest on as she combs through his hair with her fingers. She gently talks him to sleep when Mark finds it hard to with so many thoughts churning inside his head, clashing against each other in hues of contradiction and denial and the overall acceptance digging a deeper hole into his chest when he remembers that nothing will come out of his newfound feelings. 

The number one important rule in fake relationships is to never fall in love, but Mark went and did _just_ that. He must look like a pitiful fool; if he knows any better, Donghyuck was probably conjuring up an idea to reject Mark in the nicest way possible. 

Yerim plants an idea in Mark’s head about the possibility of Donghyuck feeling the same way, but Mark finds it hard to believe that. Mark was human. He was plain, boring, talked too much about literature and when he wasn’t raving about literature he’d be nagging Donghyuck from one ear to the other about his terrible living habits. What’s there to like? Although his self-deprecation _did_ earn him a flick on the forehead. Mark’s not that great at hyping himself up. 

“I mean, if it makes you feel any better,” Yerim starts as they’re huddled beneath a makeshift fort of sofa cushions and blankets, sharing a bowl of poke, “looks like your little revenge plan worked. The presentation they showed during halftime was basically exposing Zilge for his dating habits, and they also interviewed his exes. You guys really went all out, huh? He probably can’t even try and kill you since everyone’s turned against him.”

Mark frowns. “I don’t know if that makes me feel any better.”

“Well, it makes _me_ feel better. The asshole totally deserves it.” She huffs. “With all the campus publicity, he can’t touch you.”

“He’s gonna hire a hitman to end my life.”

“Let’s not get carried away.” Yerim snorts. “That’s for another universe.”

Mark squints at her. Then he sighs and lies down on his back, staring up at the blanket thrown over the cushions as a ceiling. “I don’t like this feeling.” At an absurd thought, he quickly sits back up with fear seizing him. “Oh my God. What if Donghyuck hexes me? What if he’s setting up a ritual pentagram thing right now as we speak, and he’s going to want to stab needles into a doll he’s made of me because I broke our deal of objectively fake-dating?”

“Mark. Your fake boyfriend-slash-roommate is _not_ going to hex you.”

“But what _if_?”

Yerim rolls her eyes. “Look. I’ve let you stay here for too long. You might hate me for this, but this called for a serious need of an intervention.”

Mark stares at her until realization hits him full force. “You _didn’t_.”

Cue the next twenty minutes of Mark knocking the fort over and hiding beneath all the cushion rubble, keeping a tight grip onto the blanket he cocooned himself in as Yerim attempts to drag him out. She even tries to tickle his feet and she hates touching feet. Even as the doorbell rang and a new person emerged from the depths of Mark’s social isolation, Mark doesn’t bother to greet them at all.

“Dude,” Yukhei says as he nudges Mark with a toe. “It’s just me. You don’t even wanna see your best bro?”

“Nooooooo,” Mark cries as he writhes around. “You saw me locking lips with Donghyuck at the game twice and I don’t need to remind myself of that! Fuck, I just reminded myself of that.”

Yukhei snorts. He sits down beside Mark as Yerim goes to the kitchen to grab drinks. “Nobody even knows I’m here, I swear. Even Jeno doesn’t know! I could be home right at this moment, snuggling with him and pinching his cheeks. And I’m not talking about face cheeks, if you know what I mean. But instead, I’m here to kick the self-pity out of your stupid ass because I care about you, man.”

Mark groans. “I didn’t need to know which cheeks you were talking about.”

“Too bad, so sad, but rise and shine, porcupine!” Yukhei snatches the blanket and pulls it away from Mark, his strength unrivaled in comparison to Mark’s flimsy human strength. 

Mark can’t even see through his bird nest of a hair, but he’s glad that his hair acts like a curtain to hide his red face when both Yukhei and Yerim barrages him with an arsenal of kisses on the forehead and cheeks. It isn’t until Mark is swatting them away that he realizes that all of them are laughing together, reminding Mark of the good old times when they weren’t too swamped with work and personal burdens that adulthood had brought them. 

“You look like a mess,” Yukhei comments casually as he scans Mark from head to toe. “Donghyuck’s a mess too, but at least he’s an organized mess.”

Mark perks up. “Wait. What do you mean?”

Yukhei shares a look with Yerim. “You didn’t think _you_ were the only one affected, right? How would you feel if your fake boyfriend shoved his tongue down your throat - “

“ - hey, there was _no_ tongue!”

“ - and suddenly runs off with no text, no call, and is obviously avoiding you? If I was Donghyuck’s best friend, I would have incinerated your whole closet and burned your hair off, you know. Well, I’m not predispositioned with the element of fire, but I’d probably flood your room that your adult credentials would drop below sea level.”

“This is why you’re my second most favourite mythical creature,” Yerim notes. 

“What’s your first?”

“The honest politician.”

Mark rubs his face, too puzzled to react to Yerim’s quip. “Why would he be bothered? This whole entire thing is fake. If I just - stay away from him for a while, _my_ stupid feelings would go away. And then we can be friends for real! I’m doing what I think is logical.”

“Why do you want your feelings to go away?” Yukhei frowns, confused.

“Because Donghyuck doesn’t like me! Don’t you see the problem?”

Yerim sighs. “Trust me, Yukhei. I’ve been dealing with his self-denial for the past four days. It doesn’t get easier.” 

“Mark. You’re like, the cheese to my ham, the breakfast croissant to my watered down coffee, but you’re a dumbnugget.” Yukhei groans into Yerim’s shoulder and she pats him on the head with a comforting nod. 

“That’s bad nugg _etiquette_ to call me dumb.”

That earns him petty looks and Mark grins. When it’s made clear that Mark doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, the three of them rebuild the fort again so they can get comfortable and watch a movie together. Yerim makes popcorn alongside the poke, and gives Yukhei a large tub of water and a metal straw to drink through. Paired with Yerim’s wry commentary and Yukhei’s loud outbursts towards _Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper_ , it feels good to laugh despite the lingering wound of longing in his chest.

Though Mark’s crisis has yet to be alleviated, the comfort and rapport of his friends was enough to distract him from the woes of unrequited love.

x

Okay, so maybe Mark was more than a drama queen for avoiding Donghyuck for a week, but Mark’s never actually had feelings for anyone up until now, so it’s plausible to cut him some slack for panicking and losing his mind over a new, confusing experience. Thus, in the midst of his crisis, Mark finds himself garnering advice from the quaintest of individuals.

First up was from the young hamadryad named Chenle who Mark tutored in English. Chenle was a bright freshman with a brighter smile, and he occupied a dainty rowan tree amidst the campus forest for nature nymphs. Mark was leaning against his trunk, sadly proofreading Chenle’s paper about the mysterious identity of Homer. Chenle seems to have noticed Mark’s downcast eyes, because he reaches out from inside the trunk to poke Mark in the cheek. 

“Mark, you’re sulking,” Chenle says with an innocuous blink. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.” Mark sighs.

Chenle arches a brow. “People who say they’re fine aren’t really fine, you know. Do you want a branch to chew on? Chewing on bark helps for me. I tried to give one to my friend, but it gave him a mouthful of splinters. Maybe you shouldn’t chew on branches. Nevermind.”

“I have feelings.” Mark groans. “I hate feelings.”

“You know, I read a book about feminism. Did you know that women still get paid less than men? And intersectionality educates individuals on how systematic oppression distinctively affects people of all gender, race, sexuality, and religion. It’s a phenomenal book! I also never knew your society was so dire and that everyone in this current epoch is being led by a fascist dictator.” 

“It’s just - I think he’s really cool. Sometimes. But why did I have to go and grow _fond_ of him? In the least friendly way possible? Why do I have to like the most annoying person on earth?” 

“I really love water. I wish people watered my tree more. You know, I stepped out once and almost lost an arm because of those tree cutter things. Why do humans like cutting down trees so much?”

“Donghyuck probably hates me. I nag him so much, give him shit, and worry too much. And now, I like him! Shit. I’m even breaking out! I have a zit on my chin.”

“Mark, you’re an utter mess.” Chenle grabs his paper and retreats back into his trunk. Mark blinks at him, astonished. “Go away and solve your problems so you can be useful to me again!”

“ _Excuse_ me. That’s not nice.”

Chenle peeks out from inside his trunk. “What’s not nice is listening to you brood over your boyfriend. Or lack of boyfriend. Now, go make up! I miss you being academically certified to swoon my branches.” 

Mark has no idea what that means, but he bumps fists with Chenle before he leaves. Mark snorts to himself. _Leaves_.

 

 

The next one? Zilge’s girlfriend. _Ex_ -girlfriend. 

“Um.” Mark blinks as Mina takes the seat across from him in the Student Union Building. She looks kept together despite having dated a total athletic asshole. “Hello?”

“Hey yourself. I saw what happened at the game, and let’s just say that if you guys haven’t done that, I would have been Zilge’s next target. Honestly, he’s always been a misogynistic ass. I just thought I could be a good influence and maybe educate him, but he’s got his head so far up in his ass that he wouldn’t even listen to his dietician. So thank you, Mark.”

She’s smiling cordially at him, now, and Mark relaxes. But then blanches when he remembers what else happened at the game. “I - I’m happy we opened your eyes, Mina. I hope you can find a better partner because I’m sure you deserve a lot better than Zilge.”

“Thanks. I know I do.” Mina shrugs. “You and Donghyuck are couple goals, you know that?”

Mark absolutely pales. “Uhhhh - “

“I strive to have that kind of relationship where both parties have mutual respect and adoration for each other. It’s kinda crazy to even wish for that when it should be the standard, but I guess we’ve come to that now. But I’m glad you guys are happy. Maybe you two can continue to fight assholes like Zilge,” Mina says excitedly. “Vigilante boyfriends!”

“Ummm - “

“But yeah, that’s all I wanted to say. Thanks again. Extend my gratitude to Donghyuck and his buddies, will you?” Mina stands up and gives him an enthusiastic wave. “I’ll see you around, Mark!”

As Mark watches Mina exit the building, leaving behind a trail of cherry blossom perfume, Mark buries his face into his textbook and wishes the ground to swallow him whole.

 

 

 

Last one up was Mark’s brother. And his boyfriend.

A day later after his appointment with Dr. Moon, Mark fishes his phone out of his pocket to new messages from Donghyuck.

 **From: DUMBASS DONGHYUCK. . . (´ｰ`* )♡ (2:48PM)**  
> hey i let ur brother in. u can stop hiding and come back since i’m staying with renjun  
> u were here first, after all  
> and please let me know when u want to talk, markle sparkle

Mark chews on his bottom lip at the resigned tone of the message, unsure of how to react - especially at the nickname tacked onto the end of the text. He feels guilt wrench in his gut; Mark’s never been an elegant conveyor of emotion in times of uncertainty. He just has to get his shit together first before he can truly face Donghyuck and get it over with. Keeping their friendship was more important than rejection, wasn’t it? Though he supposes everyone has a fear of rejection.

He gets in his car and drives back home to the basement suite. He parks alongside the sidewalk of his neighborhood, and as he jogs down the steps and opens up the door with his keys, he barely has time to formulate a single thought when he lands a foot over the threshold. What he sees in front of him is burned into the crevices of his mind so deeply that Mark can never recuperate from, and when he finally opens his mouth, Mark screams.

The naked stranger rummaging through his refrigerator with his bare ass out screams too. He covers himself with the fridge door, though it proves to be futile when Mark can still see his happy trail. Mark continues to scream even as he slams the door shut. 

“Oh my God,” Mark whispers in fear. “There’s a naked thief in my house.” 

Mark immediately opens the door again to find the man still trying to hide his tall, lean body inside the fridge. Mark doesn’t even know how to begin when suddenly, his brother walks out while ruffling his hair dry with a towel, dressed in a t-shirt and flannel pants looking lackadaisical about their scream off. Jaehyun perks up at the sight of Mark, his red eyes lighting up like a swarm of fireflies in the middle of the woods at night. “Mark! Hey, lil bro. I missed your human disaster of an ass.”

“Oh shit,” the man says, guilty. “I exposed my frank and beans to your little brother.”

Jaehyun throws the towel at the man. “Wrap this around your package, then.”

“As if that’ll keep my balls from freezing to death.” 

“Better than being an exhibitionist in front of my brother, asshole.” 

“I get the post-coital munchies, okay,” the boyfriend grumbles as he wraps the towel around his hips.

Mark takes a few tentative steps forward. He leers between the both of them. “Uh. Is this your boyfriend?”

Jaehyun grins eagerly, showing his pointed teeth that Mark has always found cute instead of terrifying, as though he was waiting for this specific question. “Mark! Meet - “ he clears his throat and gestures to the naked man with a sweep of his arm, “ _My Immortal._ ”

The boyfriend extends a hand with a smile. He looks like a fool with the fridge door covering his dick. “Hi, my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way. I have ebony black hair but no purple streaks and limpid brown eyes.” His smile falters when all Mark does is blink and stare down at his hand, before shaking it mechanically. He quickly backtracks, “Okay, I’m Johnny. I’m - uh. I’m literally an Immortal, so.” Then he turns to Jaehyun. “You said he would laugh. Why isn’t he laughing?”

“I thought it was funny, but maybe we’re just too old to utilize nuanced pop culture satirical references,” Jaehyun mumbled. 

“Immortal?” Mark beams. “So you can’t die?”

Johnny shrugs coolly. “I’ve been alive for more than you can count, man. It’s been decades and I’m still trying to pay off my student debt.”

“He takes care of that old library in London. He’s very interested in Anthropodermic bibliopegy.” Jaehyun goes to throw an arm around Mark, ignoring Mark’s choked sound. “Now, lil bro. Usually, no one can see the candle flame of my issues next to your raging dumpster fire. And right now, you’re on the verge of an explosion. Mind telling me why you look like you’ve been skipping an entire week of sleep?”

“We’re supposed to catch up, not talk about my problems,” Mark complains. He rummages through the pockets of his jacket before he hands the pack of blood mints to Jaehyun. “Also, I got you these.”

“There’s a reason you’re my favourite brother.”

“I’m your _only_ brother.”

“Mum’s been alive since nineteen-oh-four. Think again.” Jaehyun simpers as he leads the way to the kitchen table. Mark files that in the back of his head to bring up again in the future to talk about his potential hundreds of step-siblings if Jaehyun was actually being serious. 

Mark turns to Johnny. He’s very handsome. Also very tall. “Does he drink your blood then? I remember he used to bring his dates back just so he can eat them.” 

“Dude, you let your baby brother listen to you feed off your past partners? No wonder he’s got issues.”

“I thought I was quiet,” Jaehyun says defensively. 

Mark snorts. While they sit at the table, Mark remembers about hospitality and went to boil some water to make tea for them, though he’s not entirely sure if an Immortal can necessarily ingest human refreshments. Then he remembers about Johnny’s nudity and Jaehyun being fresh out of the shower. Horrified, Mark whirls around and asks, “You guys had sex in my basement?” 

“We didn’t have sex,” Jaehyung says the same time Johnny replies with a loud, “Bathroom!” 

“Please tell me you cleaned up after yourselves. _Please_.”

“Totally,” Johnny says. Mark doesn’t really believe him. 

After Mark makes the tea, he brings the cups over and sets them down on the table. He takes his seat and blows on his tea that was too hot to drink, though he watches incredulously as Johnny downs his entire tea in one go. Jaehyun pours half of the blood mints into his tea and watches it turn crimson. Mark’s become so desensitized that he doesn’t even bat an eye. 

“How’s rooming with Donghyuck been? I saw his room full of animate plants and that large parasitic tree he’s been taking care of. He’s a weird one, isn’t he? But funnily enough, he looks like shit too.” Jaehyun takes a sip of his bloody barley tea and hums contentedly. “Did something happen?”

Mark debates on whether or not to go into details. “We had a falling out.”

“He told us you guys fake dated in order to get back at his ex,” Johnny says. 

_Nevermind._ “Okay, fine. So I caught feelings and now I’m trying to delete them. There!” 

“Why’re you trying to delete them?” Jaehyun asks quizzically. “Is liking him such a bad thing? I frankly think that Hyuck’s a cute guy. Very witty, very scary, but very protective. Also very smart. Did you know that he could recite all of the orchid varieties? You could use more plants in your life, Mark.”

“His man-eating Venus flytrap tried to _eat_ me.”

“God, I love Coco.”

Mark glares down at his tea. “It hasn’t even been that long since we’ve finally decided to have a truce. And I don’t want to ruin this potential friendship with my dumbass suddenly developing feelings for him when it’s been established that a fake relationship is _fake_. I just - Donghyuck doesn’t like _like_ me. That’s why I have to hurry up and get rid of these feelings before I ruin anything.”

Johnny stares at Mark. Then he glances at Jaehyun with a dead serious expression. “I’m going to adopt your brother.”

“I won’t let you.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes. He turns his attention back to Mark. “How do you know that Donghyuck doesn’t like you?”

“Why would he?”

“Why _wouldn’t_ he?”

Mark bites his lip. “I dunno.”

“Have you asked him?”

“Um - “

“I’ll take that as a no.” Jaehyun raises a brow knowingly. Mark scowls. “Mark. How are you going to ruin things when you’re _already_ ruining things by _not_ doing anything? The more you go on without talking to him, the more misunderstandings you’re stewing up. Before you know it, your friendship is already past the brink of unrepairable.”

Johnny leans forward on the table and steeples his fingers. “I second that. Look, I’ve been alive for more than a hundred years. And that means I’ve had more than a hundred partners too.”

“At _once_?” Mark stares at him, agape.

“What? No! I’m in a monogamous relationship,” Johnny says. “Anyway. I’m just saying - all that time being alive and experiencing a lot of relationships? If it’s taught me one thing, it’s to _communicate_. To be honest and straightforward and to trust them. You can’t expect your relationship to make it out alive if you don’t do that.”

“Definitely. Although sometimes even _he_ doesn’t take his own advice.” Jaehyun scoffs. Johnny shoots him a frown. 

“But it’s scary,” Mark murmurs.

Johnny looks unamused. “You know what’s scary? Birds.”

“Birds?” Mark thinks of Yerim.

“They’re sky beasts that shit from the sky! They have tiny brains. And their eyes are so beady. Scary as shit. But the person you’re in love with?” Johnny shakes his head. “You should never be scared of being honest with them.” 

Mark feels his heart swell in his chest. They look at Mark with warmth and support, and Mark feels a burst of courage surge forth. He abruptly stands up from his seat, curling his hands into determined fists. “You’re - you’re _right_. I’m going to march to Renjun’s apartment right now and talk to him!” 

Johnny cheers him on. He stands up as well and brings Mark into a tight hug and pats him on the bum. “I like you already. Please come to our wedding.”

Mark pauses in the middle of his elation. “What?”

“We have no wedding,” Jaehyun corrects. “Yet.” 

“ _What_?”

“Bye now!” Jaehyun leans forward to plant a kiss on Mark’s cheek. “Go get your boyfriend!” 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Mark mumbled shyly as he leaves the kitchen. _Yet_.

x

Renjun’s family was kind of royalty, so that also means he was rich as hell. Mark arrives at his penthouse apartment after sweating buckets from trying to find parking in the dazzling neighborhood, or maybe he was sweating from the impending doom of confronting Donghyuck after more than a week of avoiding him. But he keeps his brother and his boyfriend’s words close to his heart and tries to maintain his rapidly decreasing morale and fortitude.

Mark barely has a speech by the time he finds himself in front of Renjun’s door. He stares holes into them, his hand paused midair of knocking on the door. When he quite literally punches the door instead of knocking, Mark starts panicking. A lot. 

_What do I say, what do I say_ , Mark paces back and forth. He hasn’t prepared a speech. He has no idea what he should say. What should he say? What is he _supposed_ to say? Johnny said to be honest. But Mark’s mind is so muddled and empty at the same time that he doesn’t even know what to be honest about. 

When the door opens, Mark skids to a halt. Renjun looks at him with a quirked brow, covered in his faerie dust as usual. Mark wavers in his stance before he blurts out, “Please don’t drug me with magical cocaine.” 

“Goddamn it, Jaemin,” Renjun mutters underneath his breath. He sighs and opens the door wider, beckoning Mark in. “I’m not gonna drug you. But mind you - if I didn’t like you, I’d probably kick your balls. But congrats. You’re Zilge free - I guess, until you graduate. He got suspended for almost knocking you out cold when he threw that football. I recorded the whole parade of his exes shitting on him too if you wanna see it later.” 

“Thank you?”

“Come in. Donghyuck is just in the bathroom but he’ll come out any moment now.”

Mark nods. He steps into the penthouse and toes off his shoes, gawking at the apartment. The broad windows reveal the open skyline of the city and the wide expanse of mountains in the distance, a scenery too easily forgotten in the day-to-day motions of life. With the luxurious furniture and fancy upholstery, Mark’s bank account hurts just _looking_ at it.

He turns around when he hears a door click and a trail of footsteps appear. He sees Donghyuck pause in surprise at the unexpected sight of Mark. Renjun darts his eyes between the two and sensing his unwanted presence despite being the owner of the penthouse, Renjun grabs his shoes and steps out for a moment. “I’m going over to Jaemin’s. _Don’t_ touch my pillows.”

As soon as Renjun leaves, Mark awkwardly wrings his sleeves. “Um,” he says intelligently. “Hi.”

“Hey,” replies Donghyuck. He looks tired too, ridden with heavy eyebags that weren’t there before. Mark feels guilty. He didn’t mean for this to happen. Anything with Mark involved is a recipe for disaster. But there’s also a tug in his chest - he’s _missed_ Donghyuck too. Like, a lot. A _lot_ lot. And just looking at Donghyuck made Mark phenomenally better, even if he was going to probably return home crying into his pillow. 

“How’s Jaehyun?” 

“Good.” Mark purses his lips. “He and his boyfriend had sex in the bathroom.”

Donghyuck groans. “Please tell me they cleaned it up.”

“I don’t know for sure. I was too scared to check.”

Donghyuck huffs, his lips twitching. And that’s when Mark goes absolutely apeshit.

“I LIKE YOU,” Mark shouts impulsively, having no control in the volume linguistics of his brain. “I LIKE - sorry, I mean - I like you. I like you to the point that I got scared because everything was supposed to be fake but then suddenly it wasn’t and I didn’t want to ruin our growing friendship because I was really happy but then I ended up liking you even though this was supposed to be payback for your ex - which, I’m also happy it worked out because _fuck_ Zilge - but I like you and I’m really sorry for being the worst communicator on planet Earth and _please_ don’t hex me.” 

He sucks in a deep breath and slowly exhales. Donghyuck is gaping at him, stunned with cheeks growing pink. Mark sucks in his teeth and bounces on his heels, trying to smother his other thoughts, when he ends up blurting out, “I have flabby human arms and a very flabby human stomach but I am capable of writing poetry about how your hair glistens in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze and how those skinny jeans you usually wear are so tight I could see your religion.”

Donghyuck glances down at his sweatpants and runs a hand through his greasy hair. He looks back at Mark with a bemused smile. “How about you take me out on that picnic date instead?” 

“I - oh, I - okay. Yes. Of course. Yes. Okay. I can do that. Okay, I - wait. Wait, what?”

“Hecate’s Wheel,” Donghyuck mutters. He approaches Mark with crossed arms, looking entirely unimpressed. “When Jaehyun said that you were oblivious, I didn’t think you were oblivious to the point of stupidity. Did you really think I didn’t like you after the whole fake relationship?” He absentmindedly plays with his eyebrow ring. “I was just happy to be able to get back at Zilge, but then - I broke the rules too, you know."

Mark stares at him until he swears his eyes are going to pop out. “You like me? You like me too? I’m not dreaming? I had a really bad dream when you almost poisoned me.”

“That was in the past, Mark! Let bygones be bygones.”

“Says the person who cursed the barista for forgetting to add sugar in your milk tea one time,” grumbles Mark. 

“Anyway. I didn’t think I was being subtle about it.” Donghyuck shrugs. “But it’s my fault for kissing you first without telling you. Sorry about that. I was - um. Hoping the reaction would be more genuine to make it more realistic, but I also didn’t expect you to kiss me again. But then you ran away. I thought I fucked things up somehow. And I also thought you were straight for a quick second.”

Mark gasps. “How _could_ you?”

“I know right?”

Mark smiles a bit. He gingerly takes Donghyuck’s hands into his, cradling them gently. “I got scared and I ran away, and I’m sorry. But I’m not gonna be like your exes. I’m not gonna be like them. I’m gonna work on my communication skills, I’m gonna be honest, I’m gonna smother you with love and affection and a lot of takeout food because I can’t cook, and I’m gonna teach you all kinds of old human literature.”

“It’d be kind of insulting to group you with my exes. Like, come on. Even my sleep paralysis demon approves of you,” Donghyuck says, and there’s the same light in his eyes he has whenever he talks about something he absolutely adores. “And I already knew that you were different from them. For starters, you’re not a jock.”

“Thanks! Glad to know my lack of athleticism is a sign of impeccable integrity.”

Donghyuck grins. “I’ll smother you in even _more_ love and affection, ‘cause no way in hell are you one-upping me on that. Guess you’re stuck with me now.”

Mark can’t help his smile from growing. His chest feels like a star had imploded in itself - so, so warm and bright. “So, you really do like me? Even though I’m a human who complains about your living habits and burns toast? Even though I drive like a grandfather with cataracts? Does that mean you’re going to make me that special sicklepod and ren ginseng tea infused with magical properties and buy me bubble tea anytime because we’re going to unconditionally cherish and care for each other until we grow old and die of old age?” Mark winces. “If hedgewitches even age?”

“Of course we age, you idiot.” Donghyuck steps forward and squishes Mark’s face together. “Now shut up already and let me kiss your fucking dumbass.”

“You can kiss my dumb mouth, not my ass.” Mark beams. “But okay!”

When Donghyuck kisses him like he’s got nothing to lose, Mark thinks about sending a fruit basket as a thank-you to Zilge. Because who knew a jealous orc ex-boyfriend would be the cause of Mark’s greatest happiness in life? 

 

 

 

**Epilogue**

 

“What do you mean you guys are _together_?” Mark exclaims in disbelief as he darts his eyes between Renjun and Jaemin. “Since when did Mr. Crabby Pants and Mr. Anti-Cupid like each other?!”

“Since we’ve been friends for more than five years,” Renjun deadpans.

Mark narrows his eyes, baffled. “But - you said - you said you wouldn’t fake date him even though you’ve known each other for years!”

“Emphasis on the _fake_ date,” Jaemin intercepts, “because we were already together. Also because we wouldn’t do that in the first place.” 

Mark looks at Donghyuck for help. Donghyuck shrugs with a smile while applying a special burn salve he personally made on to Jaemin’s palm, and Mark pouts. He turns to Jeno and Yukhei, who were too occupied with being a lovey dovey couple to pay attention to him. 

Mark sighs and turns back to culprits at hand. “But how does that work, then? Jaemin, you don’t even believe in love. Renjun, you don’t even like _people_.”

“Of course I like people.” Renjun frowns, tilting his head. “I’m especially drawn to cynical morons with anti-cupid propaganda.” 

“Love doesn’t exist but Renjun does,” is Jaemin’s unabashed reply. 

“That was the single, cheesiest thing to have ever come out of your mouth, dude,” Yukhei butts in. “And _I’m_ the cheesiest bastard in Arcadia.”

“But Jaemin’s always talking about wanting to marry me.”

“You’re like a puppy,” Jaemin says. “A very cute puppy I want to adopt and cuddle to sleep.”

Donghyuck looks vaguely concerned.

Renjun stares at them, unimpressed, before he looks back at Mark. “We’re queerplatonic partners.”

Mark works the term around in his head. Then he nods. Now that he’s thought about it, there’s always been something about their close friendship that didn’t seem quite like a typical friendship at all. Plus, there were many types of relationships Mark has yet to be exposed to. Yerim has always made it clear that she doesn’t find any appeal in dating, but will enter a relationship where her physical needs are met, such as intimacy and something as simple as holding hands. “Cool.” 

He turns his gaze to Yangyang, who’s curled up on his lap. “How about you, Yangyang? Do you have a partner I don’t know about?”

“I am currently trying to court a very nice human by the name of Dejun,” Yangyang says. “He’s very suave and chic unlike you, Mark.”

Everybody snorts. Mark tries to keep his warm face at bay. 

“Well, I guess dating has its perks,” Mark murmurs. “Coco doesn’t try to eat me anymore.”

“Did you know that Coco was jealous of you?” Jeno leans forward, a gleam of deviltry in his dark eyes. “Donghyuck kept prattling on about you to Coco, kinda like she was his therapist, and she went berserk because you know how plant pets are. They’re very territorial over their owners. And now that you’ve become a co-parent of hers, she’s never gonna let you go now!” 

Mark whips his head towards Donghyuck. “You swooned about me to Coco? Oh my God, that makes so much more sense now.” 

“I didn’t _swoon_ ,” Donghyuck denies, face growing redder by the minute. “Fuck all of you.”

“I’m taken,” Jaemin says.

“I’m about to be taken,” Yangyang says. 

Mark grins. He leans over and kisses Donghyuck on the cheek. “A quadruple date is in the process, then!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u always for reading !!!! idk if i'll ever come back to this project in regards to new chapters/fics, but i'm always eager to discuss this universe ; v ;
> 
> (also i came up with this fic JUST so i can put in that my immortal reference)

**Author's Note:**

> (i didn't wanna use any of the members as the ex-bf becus that'd be so mean T___T so i made an oc... hope that's ok !)
> 
>  
> 
> [tweets](https://twitter.com/suncygnus)


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